Can't Get You Out of My Head by Raj Persaud

Author:Raj Persaud
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SilverWood Books
Published: 2016-05-11T08:07:59+00:00

33

Nowhere to run to baby

Nowhere to hide

The phone line down which Mean had been feeding “Country Girl” went dead, maybe because Dread and Han had just entered the galleria. One of the last two riders pursuing them dismounted outside and rushed at them, his bike writhing on the ground, the engine still howling. Dread could only make him out as filmy as he was moving swiftly between panes of glass in the revolving entrance. He looked as if he had a weapon in his hand. In her mirrors Dread saw Han expertly release the gun into his gloves. He held the enormous revolver up, muzzle pointing at the roof.

On foot, the biker crashed through a smaller gateway and charged at them. Han flinched out of the man’s first lunge, while Dread swivelled her handlebars and pulled away as the assailant grabbed air.

Front wheels lifted as she gunned the engine, so the assailant fell over with the momentum of his lunge. His companion was fighting through the rotating door on his muttering machine, his feet on the ground, powerfully forcing his two wheels forward.

The engine note was louder now, reflecting back at them from glass shop fronts. The commune of shoppers was staring, confused and frightened – was this a retail promotion for bikes in poor taste? Mall security began running towards them, yelling into their walkie-talkies, hands pointing to where people needed to take cover.

They were down to their last pursuer from the posse, both bikes racing together while patrons scrambled for safety. They jockeyed with each other, chrome to chrome, handlebar to handlebar.

A nail concessionary stand slewed into their path. Dread swerved too hastily and they careered into the cardboard structure sideways, a kaleidoscope of polish bottles showering them.

The biker was right on top of them. Up ahead, on either side of the escalators, Hi Vis vests, guns unsheathed, daisy chained across the width of the atrium.

Shouted warnings clashed with wails from the terrified shoppers.

Dread was banking and sliding the heavy machine to avoid hitting people, but the rider behind struck someone full on. The body was thrown, rolling with a thudding slap.

And staying down.

They had run out of places to go. The security men had all sides ahead of them covered.

‘From my police experience, if there’s no pedestrians in the line of fire, they could take a shot at you!’ Han bellowed.

Particularly given that you still have your gun in your hand and are waving it around stupidly, she thought.

So he wanted her to turn herself in. Didn’t he know the principal concert of her career beckoned?

She brought the machine round in a tight circle. Behind her was the other biker, and in his wake, a further gang of yellow vests blocked any hope of a passage back.

Dread gunned the engine. The bike bounded for the escalators. Han flinched as the wheels grappled with the serrated edge of the moving steps. Acrid burning rubber penetrated the helmet. The extra weight of Han on the back of the bike meant she found it easier to perform a wheelie on to the incline of the escalator.

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