Chapter Fourteen
Ren's knuckles were white against the steering wheel.
The engine screamed as he pushed the little yellow car far beyond anything its manufacturer had intended. In his peripheral vision, Monica had pressed herself against the seat, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps.
"Ren—"
"Don't talk."
His voice wasn't harsh. It was the calm voice of a man who had done this before.
The black sedan matched his every move. When Ren cut across two lanes of traffic, it followed. When he ducked into a narrow alley between high-rise buildings, it squeezed through behind them, side mirrors scraping against concrete with a shriek of tortured metal.
BAM!
The rear window exploded.
Monica screamed as glass showered the back seat. Ren felt something hot graze his cheek, and then the windshield in front of him sprouted a spiderweb of cracks with a neat hole at its center.
'These guys aren't clumsy thugs,' Ren thought, his eyes flicking between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. 'But they're not trained assassins either or they wouldn't have needed this much time to kill us. Military? Police? Police would have sirens. Military would be more disciplined. So who the hell-'
BAM!
Another shot passed through the windshield before Ren could assess the situation more.
'Fuck!' Ren cursed internally as took a sharp right turn while blood trailed down his cheek. 'The fuck is wrong with these aliens! Even encounters and assassinations aren't done this clumsily. Do they think we're shooting some third rate action movie?!'
"Y-You're bleeding, R-Ren." Monica's trembling voice pulled Ren out of his thoughts as he watched huge tear balls roll down her cheeks, making him loosen his facial muscles.
"Calm down, babe. Listen carefully," His voice softened slightly. "Bend down. Cover your ears. Close your eyes. Don't open them until I tell you to. Got it?"
"But, Ren-"
"I asked, did you get it?"
"Y-Yes."
"Then, are you waiting to be shot? Get down!" Ren sighed as he gritted his teeth in frustration. 'I can't die without having sex again. Damn it! I have to lose them anyhow.'
The little yellow car screamed as Ren pushed it harder, the engine whining in protest. The alley opened onto a four-lane highway.
Ren merged directly into oncoming traffic forcing the shooter to pull his gun back inside.
A delivery truck swerved so hard at the sudden appearance of the yellow car that its cargo doors burst open, sending boxes tumbling across the asphalt like oversized dice.
"ARE YOU CRAZY!? I'LL CALL THE FUCKING POLICE!" The driver yelled in frustration but his voice faded into the midst of horns as the black sedan leaped out of the alleyway shortly after.
The yellow car's engine screamed in protest as Ren held the accelerator flat against the floor. The highway stretched before him like a concrete river, cars scattering in his wake like frightened fish.
The black sedan hung on the yellow car's tail like a leech, its damaged front bumper sparking against the asphalt whenever they hit a dip.
"LEADER! HE'S PULLING AWAY!"
Inside the black sedan, the leader gripped his armrest as Martin swerved through traffic, nearly clipping a minivan.
"I CAN SEE THAT, MARTIN! SHUT UP AND DRIVE!"
BAM!
Another shot followed through. This one punched through the yellow car's rear windshield and embedded itself in the passenger seat headrest.
Ren didn't flinch. His hands moved independent of thought, muscle memory from a lifetime ago taking over.
'Left lane clears in three seconds. Truck merging from right at two-second intercept. Gaps: 1.2 meters between sedan and barrier. Barely enough. It's impossible to lose them on a highway unless some fucking miracle happens.'
Ren's eyes darted to the fuel gauge. Quarter tank. Maybe fifteen minutes of this insanity left before he'd be a dead duck.
'Come on, universe. Throw me a bone here. A blown tire. A police roadblock. A sudden alien invasion. Anything. I can't die a virgin again!'
As if on cue, something miraculous did happen.
Inside the black sedan, the engine coughed. Martin's foot pressed the accelerator instinctively.
However, this time the speed didn't increase, it decreased.
"Leader?" Martin's voice had gone high-pitched. "Why is the car making that noise?"
The Leader's head snapped toward the dashboard. His eyes went wide.
The fuel gauge needle was buried so far below "E" that it was practically tapping on the glass asking to be let out.
"No," the Leader whispered. "No, no, no, no, NO!"
The sedan's engine died completely in the next three seconds. The car began to slow, its momentum carrying it forward while every other vehicle on the highway zoomed past with angry honks.
"MARTIN! YOU IMBECILE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FILL THE TANK THIS MORNING!"
Martin's face went pale. "I thought YOU filled it yesterday!"
"WHY WOULD I FILL IT?! I'M THE LEADER! LEADERS DON'T FILL TANKS!"
"You are the one who took the advance payment on the mission!"
The yellow car shrank in the distance, and then disappeared entirely over a rise in the highway.
"No," the Leader whispered again. Then, louder: "NOOOOO!"
He slammed his fist against the dashboard, then immediately regretted it as pain shot through his knuckles. The sedan coasted to a stop in the middle lane, horns blaring around them like angry geese.
Martin looked at the rearview mirror. A semi-truck was bearing down on them, its air horn screaming.
"Leader? We should probably move the car—"
"SHUT UP AND STEER!"
The sedan rolled onto the shoulder just as the semi thundered past, its wake rocking the vehicle like a paper boat. Inside, the two men sat in sudden, deafening silence.
The Leader's phone rang.
He looked at the screen. His face went from red to pale in less than a second.
"Sir," he answered, his voice suddenly very small.
"Explain. Now."
The Leader opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. No sounds came out.
Martin watched his boss sweat through his shirt in real-time.
'Are we doomed?'
---
Ten miles ahead, Ren finally allowed himself to breathe.
He pulled the yellow car into a deserted parking lot behind a strip mall, killed the engine, and let his head fall back against the seat.
For a long moment, he just sat there, listening to the tick-tick-tick of cooling metal and Monica's quiet sobs.
"We lost them."
Monica lifted her head from between her knees. Her face was streaked with tears and mascara, her eyes red and swollen. She looked at Ren's cheek, where blood had dried in a dark line down to his jaw.
"You're hurt."
"It's just a scratch."
Ren sighed as he reached over and took Monica's hand which was trembling violently.
Ren brought it to his lips, making Monica stand on her feet as he kissed her knuckles, feeling the shudders running through her small frame.
"Don't I deserve a thank you for saving you, babe?" Ren grinned as he flattened the driver seat back, pulling Monica's body over him as her soft breasts pressed against his chest.
"W-What?"