Tim lurched over to the door, pushing it open.
With all her strength, Carla pushed him out.
Tim fell out slowly, pinched between
the door and door pillar, eventually hitting the road with his face
and chest. Somehow, one of his feet or trouser legs had caught at
the base of the seat, dragging him along the road.
Tim was not quite dead when he hit the
road, so the agony of skin and bone being scraped off on the tarmac
registered somewhere in his brain, for a second or two.
The snagged foot suddenly became
un-snagged when Tim’s outstretched arms were pinned under the back
wheel, to the road. He was ripped out and dragged under the
car.
Carla was nearly thrown out herself
when the rear wheel bucked over the corpse. Seconds later, she slid
behind the steering wheel and at last, took full control of the
car.
The police car was now alongside Carla,
on the inside of the roundabout forcing her onto the verge. Dabbing
the brakes, she dropped behind the police and skidded outwards to
the curb. The police thought Carla was going to take the
approaching exit off the roundabout because the Fiat was drifting
that way, so they took it ahead of her. The skid had scrubbed off
most of the Fiat’s speed even though the verge was slippery. She
continued on to the next exit.
The police driver was quick to realize
his mistake, and with considerable skill, he spun his car around to
follow Carla. His misjudgement was all she needed to escape. She
had the edge, with a nippy car and her will to survive at all
costs.
Roadblocks were being set up, of
course, but Carla was well prepared. She believed that if you fail
to plan, you plan to fail!
Carla headed away from town, back the
way Tim had come, until she reached the turn off to the emergency
escape route. The direction Tim should have taken. With the police
car in close pursuit, she calmly negotiated the narrow road cut out
of the rocky hillside, up towards the forest. The powerful car was
now gaining on her and getting too close for comfort.
Her heart sank as the engine cut out
briefly, then picked up again. Low on fuel she guessed, and the
gauge confirmed it; the fuel pipe, or tank must be leaking! The
long, steady climb with few bends to swill the meagre contents past
the pickup pipe in the tank, had caused the glitch. Zigzagging the
car sloshed fuel around the tank, maintaining a flow to the engine.
The police car was now only 20 metres behind, and gaining,
fast!
“You’re too close,” muttered Carla to
herself as she snatched up a radio controller, stuck with Velcro to
the dashboard. She switched it on as she passed under a rocky
outcrop, and pressed a button, triggering a nitroglycerine charge,
embedded in the rock. The force blasted her car sideways in a
shower of rock fragments, but she quickly regained control and
accelerated away. The blast caught the police car full on, smashing
it sideways into the parapet. Blasted with fist-sized chunks of
rock on one side, and grinding away in showers of sparks on the
other, the police car stalled.
A large landslide fell onto the road
right behind them, blocking it off. Totally stunned by the attack,
it took several moments for the driver to recover and restart the
engine. He floored the accelerator and with the engine screaming,
dropped the clutch. Bucking and screeching against the parapet, the
police car broke free and was in hot pursuit again.
Carla grinned cheekily to herself as
she glanced in her rear view mirror, at the havoc she caused.
“Bang goes you’re no claim bonus Cop,”
she muttered.
Still gripping the controller, she
rounded a bend and pressed it again. Another explosion, and more
rock spread over the road in a landslide; she was almost home
free.
Carla’s engine spluttered and died;
wiggling the steering frantically, brought it back to life.
“Just take me a few hundred metres
more. Please! Please!” She begged. “Don’t let me down now,
please!”
The car surged forward and she backed
right off the accelerator, maximizing every precious drop of fuel,
left in the tank.
A narrow track suddenly came into view
on the left, and she spun the wheel, drove up it a few metres, and
stopped. Just ahead was a particularly dirty, dark green 4X4
vehicle, substantially hidden by the undergrowth.
At a glance, she could see no one was
in it or nearby.
Leaping out of the Fiat with a
different set of car keys, snatched from the glove compartment, she
ran to the dark green Cherokee, beeping it unlocked as she ran.
Before opening the door, she glanced at the dashboard, to see if
any warning lights were flashing. No lights glowed, so she got in
and started the engine. Thankfully, it roared into life.
Dragging the bags of drugs and money
from the Fiat to the Cherokee, she tossed them onto the back seat
and slammed the door shut. Dashing back to the Fiat, she flicked a
switch under the dashboard, and a loud buzzer sounded.
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