Page 168 of Vile Bastards
On our way into the city, I notice that we’re being followed.
So much for my Stingray being off the radar, eh?
“Dude,” Scarlett starts, but I just shake my head.
“Already fuckin’ saw it, princess.” I ease down on the gas, aware of the icy road in a way that’s intuitive, that makes me appreciate my supposed talent behind the wheel. Scarlett seems to think I’ve got some skill, and she’d know better than anyone else. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Take a left,” she tells me, and then she tries Bohnes’ phone yet again.
“You should’ve texted me sooner. If I’d known it was you, darling, I’d have picked up on the first ring. Your nightmare awaits,” he murmurs, and then he pauses. He already knows something is wrong, and Scarlett hasn’t even spoken. “Where are you?”
“In the ‘Vette with Widow, heading toward Santa Clara.”
I glance in the rearview mirror and see that there are four fucking cars behind us. Again. It never stops, does it? I can’t tell if these are goon cars, mob cars, who gives a shit cars? Obviously, if they’re tailing us, it’s not good.
“We’ve got four unknown vehicles on our ass,” Scarlett continues.
“I’m coming. Stay on the phone.” I can hear the Chevelle screeching as Bohnes takes a corner too sharp. I get the stolen gun out of my dash—the one I snagged from the cop—and set it in my lap. Just in case. Scarlett glances over at me, but she doesn’t say a damn word. Instead, she feeds me directions so that we’re heading around the edge of Eugene on a zigzagging back road, and from there, into a more rural area.
Eugene means that Chief Bolin isn’t in charge of all the cops.
Rural means less fucking people to get in our way.
“Turn left.”
I do as she asks, spinning my wheel and sending us rocketing down a side road. I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re up against. Also, I don’t think either of us knew the bridge would be out.
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter as I notice a seemingly solid sea of ice in front of us. It was a lake, at one point, but there’s clearly always been a bridge over it. Not anymore. I notice a new development sign nearby—Archer Realty—and the blood drains from my face. There are bulldozers nearby, and it seems they’re gearing up to fill the lake in.
I hit the gas just before we hit the ice, yanking my wheel to the left. Scarlett lunges over and grabs onto it, forcing it even further over so that when I hit the brakes, we start to spin. The ‘Vette turns so that the front end is facing the oncoming cars, and we’re sliding like ice skaters across a rink.
I don’t think about the fact that she almost died in an icy river just a few weeks back.
I don’t think about anything except the fact that the ice is cracking under our tires …
The Stingray flies backward, hitting the frosty grass at the edge of the lake and rolling up over it with a crunching sound. We slow to a stop in the icy mud just as the other four vehicles come down the hill at top speed and make the same mistake we did.
Only, when the four of them hit the ice together, it breaks.
The shiny surface of the lake shatters, and the four cars—and their occupants—hit the ice-cold water. It only takes about two or three minutes for a car to sink, and if you don’t have the windows already open the way Alexei and Scarlett did, if you don’t have one of those handy tools to smash out the glass … you’re a little bit fucked.
Both Scarlett and I open our doors, standing on the frosted bank at the edge of the river, and we watch them all sink. After several minutes, it becomes obvious that no one is coming up for air.
“Holy shit,” I choke, glancing over at her. My poor future wife is staring at the water and seemingly fighting back a surge of panic at the same time. This, right here, was pure and total luck.
The thing is, I can’t decide at this point if it’s good luck or bad luck. Good luck because we just sunk those fuckers in an icy grave. Bad luck because we’re being tailed again, because we’re wrapped up in a conflict so much bigger than we all thought it was going to be.
Mostly, I’m wrapped up in a conflict that I can no longer get out of.
Love.
It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced because, for the first time in a long time, I have something to lose.
I have to finish this, come hell or high water.
I move over to where Scarlett is standing, take her face in my hands, and then I kiss her like our lives depend on it.
