Page 67 of Wild Sentinel

Jack took care of his friend.

With both of them on the ground, we hustled back to the Porsche, hopped in, and chased after Brooke.

It would take the goons a second to get back on their feet, but I'm sure they wouldn't be far behind.

Jack stomped the gas, and the engine howled as we barreled down the highway. It may have been an SUV, but it was still a Porsche. The GTS had some get-up-and-go and, in sport mode, pretty good handling.

There were a few cars between us and Brooke. I'm not sure if she knew we were following her yet. It was a four-lane blacktop with a middle turning lane. Nothing but desert and hills for miles.

Jack weaved through slower traffic. Before long, we were on Brooke’s bumper. Jack flashed the high beams and honked the horn, while I held my badge out of the window. It's too bad we didn't have a megaphone or sirens.

Brooke wasn't about to slow down. I didn't blame her. We could have been anybody with fake badges.

I glanced through the rear window. In the distance, the beige 4x4 turned onto the highway.

I bet those guys were pretty pissed off.

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Tires squealed as Brooke made a hard left, then stepped on the gas.

We followed in the Macan.

The faded two-lane blacktop sloped up the hill. The landscape was barren. Telephone poles lined the roadway. Ahead, a trailer home sat in a desolate lot. Beyond that, there was nothing. This was the kind of road where you could really open it up. And Brooke did just that.

Still, she couldn't pull away from us. The Porsche was a beast. Jack kept honking the horn and flashing the lights.

I kept looking through the rear window to see if the beige truck followed.

Sure enough, they made the turn, and I may have grumbled a few obscenities.

Jack crossed the double yellow's and pulled alongside Brooke. At well over a hundred miles an hour, this was crazy. With my window rolled down, I shouted at her, my badge glimmering in the mid-morning sun. "Roll down the window!”

Brooke didn’t look at me. She just kept staring at the road ahead, her foot mashed to the floorboard.

I kept shouting.

Finally, she rolled down the window. "What do you want?”

"I'm trying to keep you safe. Autumn’s dead.”

I hated to break it like that, but I needed to get her attention.

Her face went long, and her eyes misted.

"We need to get you somewhere safe.”

Brooke slowed and took a hard right.

We missed the turn.

Jack slammed the brakes, backed up, then turned onto the crossroad. We were on the other side of the hill, out of view of the beige truck.

We caught up with Brooke as she barreled down the highway. She took another left at the next crossroad, then stepped on it again.

I was glad we had filled the tank earlier. This could go on for a long time, and one of us would run out of gas first.

We raced down the lonely road into the high desert. Miles and miles of absolutely nothing with hazy mountains in the distance. Bright sun and blue sky. I was pretty sure we had lost the beige truck.