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his seat belt buckled she sped toward the freeway. A glance in the rear-view mirror revealed the black van in pursuit. Traffic on the service road had picked up with the advent of daybreak. D.J. ignored traffic signs and speed limits in her attempt to get onto the freeway and away from their pursuers. She zigged into the right-hand lane, then zagged back into the left. The van followed her every move. Horns blared in protest of their tactics. D.J. bit her lip and pushed the accelerator lower. "If I can just get onto the back roads, I'll be able to lose them in no time." |
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McCall threw a glance back over his shoulder. "Are you sure? They seem to have as little regard for traffic laws as you do." |
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"Don't whine, McCall. They'll kill you for sure. With me you've got a fighting chance." She reached the entrance ramp to the freeway. The road in front of them lay clear, so she pushed the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer jumped to ninety-five. Once merged into the sporadic traffic, D.J. continued her in-and-out method of driving with the black van not far behind. |
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"At least they're not shooting at us," she said. |
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"Wouldn't shooting be dangerous in all this traffic?" |
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"I don't think they care." |
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As if in answer to her observation, the back window of the Explorer exploded inward in a hail of glass. |
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"Get down!" D.J. shouted and shoved McCall's head into her lap. "Stay down." She squinted into the rear-view mirror. One of the men hung out of |
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