FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 70

Chapter 70


Sheena floored it and the Rover bounced over the bumps, throwing Peewee this way and that. At one point her head was below the dashboard. 

Sheena was having second thoughts. She realized now that Jason had sent them off to be killed. There was no turnoff ahead, which meant that they were barreling down this fucking rutted road, heading straight for the pigs.  He’s asking me to die for him.

As she rounded a curve she saw the bank of blinding halogen headlights.

They’re waiting for us!

“Shit!” she yelled.

When Peewee popped up she saw what Sheena saw and squinted. They were headed straight for them. 

“Fuck ‘em!  Floor it!” Peewee shouted.

“I am!”

They heard an amplified command:  “Stop your vehicle and get out with your hands up!”

There were fifteen yards between them

Suddenly Sheena braked and steered right, off road, snapping branches and brush, then slamming into a pine tree.

“What the fuck!” Peewee yelled.

“I want to live.”

“Coward!”

Sheena flipped her the bird and ran off, using what light the Rover provided before she groped her way into the dark forest.

Peewee slid behind the wheel. She had to stand in order to see above the dash. The Rover’s engine had stalled and smoke billowed up.

After two tries, the engine started. Peewee put it in reverse and the Rover lurched backward, bouncing over rocks and bushes until it reached the road. She straightened it until she was heading straight for the headlights.

As she drew closer she saw more lights from a smaller vehicle and heard “Hold it right there!” from a loudspeaker.

“Hold it right there!” 

“Woo-hoo!”  Peewee shouted as she floored it. 

A hail of bullets struck the windshield, shattering it and penetrating Peewee’s skull. The Rover veered off the road and hurtled along its wayward path until it slammed into a giant fir tree’s massive trunk. 

Peewee did not live to see two agents running toward her, both with weapons drawn.

Near the entrance to the park, a sheriff’s patrol car blocked the little road that eventually led to the camp. Sheriff Calder and two deputies, clad in Kevlar vests, held their night-scoped high- powered rifles at the ready. 

Further down 101 sat a government vehicle.  Agent Chavez was listening to his two-way radio. Like the sheriff and his deputies, he and his partner wore bulletproof vests. They looked up at the chopper, which hovered over the forest.

“Roger that,” said Chavez. “Over.”

“What’s up?” asked his partner.

“They’ve spotted the boy. Motionless on his belly. The girl from the wreck is crawling along, heading for the highway. 

Chavez turned and saw roadblocks a quarter mile each way on Highway 101.

We’re set, he thought. He knew his wife would be sitting up in their bed, watching the TV coverage—breaking news!—a cell phone in her hand.

Chavez figured there was no telling if Emily/Sheena would reach the highway anytime soon, if at all. A search team would be sent in to find her. He would probably be asked to stay where he was. The infernal screams, crashes and gunshots from deep in the forest had set him on edge. 

There is more to come, he thought.

 

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