Wraith

Chapter 29 - Die Young

Chapter 29 - Die Young

There'd never been a police chase through the main street of Daleford before. The closest they'd ever come in the past was when Douglas Houseman had run after two teenage boys on bicycles after they'd graffitied the side of the local diner with various profanities. This had been back in 1998, when Douglas Houseman was still capable of running.

In the present day, Rosie's ambulance blitzed down main street like a bullet. A large, box shaped, horribly un-aerodynamic bullet. The sound of police sirens grew steadily louder; Heartbreaker leaned as close to the rear windows as he dared without smashing into the glass. Three police cruisers tailed closely behind, weaving through traffic with comparative ease to the sluggish van.

"We can't outrun them!" Heartbreaker shouted, holding on desperately to the overhead straps to avoid being thrown into the walls again, "What do we do?"

"Start shooting!"

Shooting? Fuck. Rosie's gun was back here somewhere. He racked his brain, trying to remember, as Annette Castle threw back the sheet that had been placed over her stretcher. She drew Rosie's small snub revolver from its holster, holding the belt and spare ammunition in her off hand. As the ambulance pitched heavily to one side she leaned against it, shifting her feet to compensate while steadily making her way towards the rear doors. Seeing the ice in her eyes, Heartbreaker quickly shifted out of her way as best as he could.

"Open the door," she shouted, flattening her back against one of the walls and bringing the gun up by her side.

"You can't shoot them!" he called, trying to keep his voice steady, "You kill them, they'll put you away for life!"

Heartbreaker heard two thunderous booms in quick succession, followed immediately by twin sharp metallic cracks against the walls of the ambulance. Rosie swerved in response, weaving from side to side. Out of the small back windows of the ambulance he could see one of the Daleford cops, his upper torso out of the side of the squad car with a chunky shotgun in hand.

"They're going for the tires," Annette said flatly, looking him in the eye, "If they shoot them out, we're sunk. They're going to kill you both, pin the murders on me, and then put a bullet in my head. Do you want to live?"

A few seconds of silence passed as Heartbreaker thought, desperately trying to figure a way out of the situation without anyone dying. His moment was interrupted by another sharp crack into the side of the ambulance.

"Fuck!" he shouted, reaching forward and pulling open the latch securing one of the heavy back doors of the ambulance.

"That's what I thought," Annette muttered, stepping forward into the open space and firing twice at the closest pursuing squad car.

The first shot went wide, the second slammed dead on into the shoulder of the shotgun-wielding cop. He howled in pain, reflexively letting go of the shotgun to grasp at his wound and ducking back inside the car. The weapon fell quickly to the roadside, run over in quick succession by the two cop cars following closely behind.

"Do you have more bullets?" Annette shouted to the front cabin, weighing her options.

"No!" Rosie shouted back, swerving through traffic as carefully as she could in a five-ton vehicle, "Just those six!"

"Four now," Annette muttered before turning to Heartbreaker. "You, undo the stretcher, I have an idea."

Steven nodded quickly, leapfrogging forward in the swaying vehicle to the straps tying the bed down. Annette swung back through the door, lining up a single shot through the front window of the closest cop car. Everything stopped just a moment as she pulled the trigger, the bullet left the muzzle of the revolver, and red mist filled the cabin of the pursuing car.