When the Devil Drives: A Death and the Devil Novella by L.J. Hayward

Author:L.J. Hayward
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L.J. Hayward
Published: 2018-08-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jack pulled his foot off the accelerator just as she fired. The bullet cracked into the wing mirror as the Ferrari dropped back. Plastic and glass shattering, Jack flinched and the car swerved wildly. His automatic reaction was to turn the wheel, making the back end fishtail, spinning the Ferrari into a sideways skid.

When he came to a shuddering stop, Jack panted, hands in white-knuckled

grips on the steering wheel. “Now that’s overcorrecting.”

“Nish? You okay?” Aaron sounded frantic and Jack realised the cop had been yelling in his head all through the near miss.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Just a little singed.” Looking around, there was no sign of the Porsche. “Fuck! Where is she?”

“Jumped the curb and took another street. They want you to desist. We have cars moving to block her probable route. Your part’s done.”

Like hell it was done. Jack put the Ferrari back in gear and, even while one

of the cops from the parked cars approached, he took off again. Another spray of sparks and he was back on the other side of the road. He took a random side street.

“Which way, Aaron?” he demanded. “I’m not letting her get away.”

There was a lot of muttered swearing in his head, then with a sour grunt, Aaron gave him a series of directions. Within moments, Jack was swinging out

of the maze of local streets and onto a main road.

Jack found the Porsche on a two-lane stretch riddled with traffic lights hampering its single-minded flight for freedom. The car’s white arse was a quickly vanishing blur in the distance, outpacing the civilian cars with a superior

engine and far more reckless attitude. When he could Jack passed the commuters, throwing the Ferrari into narrow gaps and slamming his foot to the

floor to get through them before they closed. The whole vehicle was humming,

skimming across the bitumen like friction was something that happened to lesser evolved machines.

Jack got it now. The fascination with the speed. The glory of being in command of something so fast and dangerous. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still terrified and that right then, the only option he felt he had was to keep going because anything else seemed too tricky. He was a qualified helicopter pilot and had flown some of the fastest combat birds there were, but this was different. In the air, speed wasn’t as immediate as it was on the ground. There was a lot more open space and a lot less things to dodge.

“You’re on the Smith Street Motorway,” Aaron said. “We’ve got blocks on the entrances and cars on the exits. Try to get her to take an exit before you hit the highway. You’ve got two coming up.”

If he was cranky about Jack not giving up the chase, he didn’t show it.

Which probably meant they’d confirmed his ISO credentials and decided if it all went pear-shaped, then they could point the finger at ISO.

“Got it.” Jack didn’t care either way. He was going to get this woman.

A sign for an exit came up and a moment later, the Porsche soared right past

it. One chance left. Jack coaxed more speed from the Ferrari, inching it up behind the Porsche. Nose level with the driver’s door, Jack eased over, forcing the white car to the left. She was almost off the road when the next exit came up.

Then she braked. Jack charged past, startled by the loss of the other car. In his rear vision mirror, he saw her jump forwards again. He slowed and she caught up fast, the smaller car now on his right and cutting in close, trying to drive him off the road.

Jack braked and she shot ahead. He swung in behind her and was on her arse

in seconds. With a press of his foot, the Ferrari kissed the Porsche, nudging it into a little quaver, then it pulled ahead again.

“You’re almost at the highway,” Aaron announced. “Northbound lanes are clear. We’re setting up road blocks at the Helensvale Exit.”

The road arched up and around, then down into an on-ramp for the highway.

Sure enough, empty lanes awaited them and the Porsche leaped ahead as soon as

it hit the open straight. Seconds behind it, Jack followed suit, cranking the Ferrari up to nearly 180 kilometres per hour. The police chopper roared in from the east, settling in over them, an ineffectual sentinel.

The roadblock came into view and Jack knew it wasn’t going to work. Two

cars to cover four lanes just wouldn’t cut it. Granted only a maniac would chance the gaps at top speed, but Jack wasn’t chasing an entirely rational person.

Moments later, the Porsche proved it, slipping to the left and squeezing through the gap on the side of the road. Roaring right up behind it, Jack went right, yelling as he threaded the Ferrari between cop car and the barrier on the edge of the road. Then they were through the barricade and more open road stretched away ahead of them.

“No more blocks, Nish,” Aaron informed him. “We’re trying to keep people from entering but some might slip through before we can close all the entrances.

There are units on the way south from Coomera. You should be seeing them soon.”

“Right. I’ll see what I can do now I don’t have to worry about anyone else.”

“What does that mean?”

Jack settled into the seat and flexed his fingers around the steering wheel.

“Let’s see.” He planted his foot.

The needle on the speedometer bent further to the right, wavering around the

210 mark. Jack panicked. Fuck, that was wild, but it worked. He shot past the Porsche, the white car shrinking frightfully fast in his rear vision mirror. With a good distance between them, he eased back and when the Porsche caught up, he

hogged the road. She tried to swing out left, he was there, weaving side to side.

She went right and he cut in front again. It was a deadly game. If she got desperate, then they could both end up in a fiery wreck. Yet it worked. She

slowed and he mimicked her, dropping them back to 160, 150, 140. Red and blue lights began registering in the rear vision mirror again, even more coming down from the north. Which was when the assassin got desperate.

She went wide right. Jack moved to block and she ducked back to the left.

She misjudged her speed relative to Jack’s and the Porsche kicked the Ferrari’s left rear corner. Jack’s world wobbled. The car pushed one way, then slammed back the other as the Porsche careened into its side.

Oh fuck. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Not in a blazing gun fight or sacrificing himself for his country, but in a hot-pink supercar, spinning wildly out of control. And if he didn’t die now . . . Ethan might kill him for hurting a Ferrari.

The car slammed to a sudden, hard stop. Airbags exploded, deflating in an

instant. Everything went whiteout—vision, sound, reality—then crashed back with sudden jarring impact.

At least it was all still. It gave him a chance to check things out. Arms attached. Legs where they belonged. Dick shrivelled in sheer terror but present.

Then, someone yelling at him, banging on the window of the car. The door was

wrenched open and hands were on him, checking all the things he’d already checked. Well, not his dick, but nearly. He managed to answer enough questions to prove he was conscious. When he tried to get out, the cops stopped him. He

waited until the fuss had died down and their backs were turned, then hauled himself out of the stupidly low car.

“Hey, mate, you should probably stay put,” one of them said.

Jack waved him off. “I’m fine. Where’s the other car?”

A sergeant motioned with his chin. “Down there.”

That was when Jack realised they were on a bridge. The railing on the outer

edge was mangled, pushed outward, scored with white paint. Jack firmed up his

balance and went and looked over the side. All he could see of the Porsche was a faded white blob covered by murky water.

“Has she come up?” he asked the sergeant.

“Not that we’ve seen. Rescue team is on its way. Don’t have much hope for the driver, though. The car went over pretty hard.” He cut Jack a sidelong frown.

“I’m surprised you’re on your feet.”

Jack grunted knowing he was going to be feeling it in a couple of hours.

Things proceeded with the stately gait of government departments.

Ambulances and firetrucks arrived. Jack was checked over, given a list of concussion symptoms and then handed back over to the police.

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