The Ridealong by Michaelbrent Collings

Author:Michaelbrent Collings [Collings, Michaelbrent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: female protagonist, police, murder, serial killer, vengeful, detective, sleuth
Publisher: Michaelbrent Collings
Published: 2015-04-28T04:00:00+00:00

10

"GOOD. GOOD MOVE. GOOD thinking, baby," Dad says an instant later. He hits the turn faster than is really safe, but it's more dangerous to go slow. The officers behind us, the ones in the chopper above – they'll all be calling for backup. All hoping to get cars ahead of us.

We can't let that happen. Not until we make our move.

Dad pushes the cruiser to its top speed as soon as he hits the freeway. Only a few miles, and if this were daytime we'd be stopped dead in traffic and the chase would be over. But it's night. Rush hour has mostly died down, and we whip in and out of cars, the usual mix of people pulling over, those who wait until we're almost sliding up their tailpipes before finally pulling over, and hopeless drivers who seem to have no clue what they're supposed to do when they see the flashing lights.

I keep looking over my shoulder. Waiting to see lights behind us. No one can stop us from ahead – at least not while we stay on the freeway. There's a concrete median, waist-high, that would keep anyone from coming the opposite direction and whipping over to take up the chase again.

But I also figure that if this goes on too long they'll just enter on an onramp ahead of us and shut the whole freeway down. No getting away then.

Dad coaxes a few more miles per hour out of the car.

I think I see blue lights behind us.

"Dad."

"Yeah. I know. I see it."

We make it to the tunnel. The light that's been following us cuts off abruptly, and as soon as it does Dad whips the wheel to the right.

I had hoped we could get to this tunnel, then turn onto an off ramp that branches directly out of the tunnel like some weird capillary from a concrete artery. The street the off ramp feeds to leads to the airport, and the police helicopter can't follow us there. Restricted airspace. We'll be safe. Or at least safer.

But with the black-and-white behind us, that plan isn't as good. The chopper won't matter if we've still got a tail.

So what's Dad doing, stopping here?

He reaches below the dash and yanks the lever that pops the hood. Jumps out his side of the car and is almost flattened by a passing big rig. It honks its airhorn.

Dad flings the hood open.

Then he stands in the center of the tunnel. Right in the middle of oncoming traffic.

And the car coming his way does not stop. Doesn't even slow down.

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