The realization that she was now being pursued by government hitmen and the police underscored the urgency of ditching the Mini. She needed to find a place where she could quickly blend in with a crowd — a mall, or maybe the beach if she could find it.
She swerved into the center lane and blasted past a cluster of cars moving at half her speed. In her mirror, she saw the vehicles pulling to the side, making room for the police cruisers. There were two sets of police lights now and they were closing fast. The Mini’s turbo engine might have outclassed the motor pool cars driven by her pursuers, but the police cruisers had a lot more horsepower under the hood. If she kept going in a straight line, they would catch her, and the killers wouldn’t be far behind.
Another intersection loomed. The light was red, and cars streamed across her path at normal commuting speeds. Gripping the steering wheel, she began murmuring, “Green light, green light,” and as if by a miracle, the light changed when she was just fifty yards away.
It was almost enough to make her believe that her mad scientist creator had imbued her with telekinetic powers…but no, it was probably just a lucky coincidence.
The idle speculation was shattered as something flashed into view on her left, a beat-up muscle car blowing through the light, blissfully unaware of the blue rocket hurtling into the intersection.
Jenna’s reflexes took over. She pushed the accelerator harder, feeling the turbo charger respond almost instantly. Her subconscious mind grasped that going left, trying to slip behind the red-light violator, would end disastrously, so she angled to the right, trying to cut in front of him.
It almost worked.
The man at the wheel of the beater must have caught a glimpse of the onrushing Mini. Instead of trying to stop, he accelerated, trying to get out of her way. He succeeded only in changing what would have been a near miss into a glancing impact.
Jenna barely felt the front corner of the muscle car kiss the back bumper of the Mini, but the transfer of energy spun the little car around like a top. The Mini’s low center of gravity kept it on the road, but for uncountable seconds, it pirouetted out of control, its smoking tires laying down a lotus-shaped spiral of rubber in the middle of the intersection.
Jenna’s head continued to spin for a few more seconds after the car came to rest, but a bright light shining in her eyes and the too-loud wail of approaching police sirens brought her back to the moment. She blinked, vaguely aware that she was unhurt and only mildly disoriented. Then she realized that the light still shining in her eyes was the rising sun. The Mini’s wild dance had left her facing east.
East it is.
She pushed the gas pedal to the floor, but nothing happened.
Jenna felt a wave of panic start to build. Her instincts had guided her through this long ordeal, but now her inexperience had caught up with her.
Get out. Run.
No. It just stalled. The spin reversed engine compression, just like the pin maneuver Noah told me about. I just need to restart.
There’s no time.
She ignored the frantic urgings of her fearful brain and heeded the calm inner voice of reason. The police would arrive at any moment. Even if it took a few seconds to get the car started, she would get a lot farther than if she attempted to escape on foot.
As if being graded by her driving instructor, she put a foot on the brake, shifted into park, and reached for the key.
The keyhole was empty.
She remembered the remoter start button on the fob. The keys lay forgotten on the passenger seat, partially buried under a scattering of what looked like tiny diamonds — the shattered remains of the tempered glass window. She found the key, squeezed the button several times, and felt panic replaced by elation as the engine turned over and began purring once more.
Shift. Gas pedal. Go.
The Mini jumped forward like a sprinter at the sound of the starter’s gun, as two police cars screeched into the intersection. The twin vehicles, normally a symbol of help and safety, took on the monstrous appearances of hungry ancient demons racing to devour her. The roar of their engines helped complete the impression, but only served to motivate Jenna further. She crushed the gas pedal down, increasing the distance between herself and the monsters behind her, but rushing headlong into a third.
39
Despite the glare of the sun in her eyes, Jenna spied another set of flashing lights ahead. A third police cruiser was responding to a call for backup. In the instant it took for her to register this fact, the approaching vehicle abruptly cut across her lane and stopped, blocking a portion of the road.
But not enough.
Jenna swung to the left without slowing. The Mini bumped over the curb and kept going, two wheels on the road and two on the sidewalk. A gaggle of pedestrians who had stopped to watch the mayhem dove out of the way, but Jenna was already past the roadblock and steered back onto the asphalt. As she did, she spied a sign post with the distinctive blue and red shield logo of the Interstate highway system.
Jenna felt a glimmer of hope. Even on the freeway — especially on the freeway — the chances of eluding pursuit were slim, but at least she would have a sense of where she was and where the road led.
The failed roadblock bought her a few more seconds of lead time, and after just a few more blocks, she spied the freeway overpass and another sign directing her to the onramp. She slowed just enough to make the gradual right turn and then accelerated again, weaving through a knot of cars heading for the Interstate.
The freeway lowered into view. She had never driven on a major highway, never even ridden along on one, and her first glimpse was a bit of a letdown. She had imagined a daunting river of cars, whipping by like Formula One racers. Instead, she saw only a scattering of vehicles — cars, SUVs, even a few eighteen-wheelers — none of which were moving any faster than she was now.
The onramp shunted her into the flow of traffic and just like that she was transported to a different reality. A concrete wall rose up on her right, eclipsing her view of the city streets she had been on only a moment before. A low barrier separated the northbound and southbound lanes, and beyond that, across more lanes, rose another wall. Jenna understood that, while the freeway might speed her on her way, it would also confine her like a hamster in a Habitrail tube.
Maybe the freeway wasn’t such a great idea.
In the distance, she could make out a green sign marking the next exit. The police had yet to appear in her rearview. If she could make it to that exit — wherever it led — unseen, she might be able to…
There was a subtle shift in her center of gravity, and she heard something change in the purr of the Mini’s engine. She pressed down on the gas pedal again, but the deceleration continued. The speedometer revealed the slowdown. With each passing second, the vehicle lost ten miles per hour. The emergency flashers activated, ticking away.
The cars, which had only a moment before been falling away in her wake, now caught up and blew past her, honking in irritation. She had to get to the side of the road before the Mini came to a complete stop and got plowed by an unsuspecting motorist. The move used up the last of the car’s momentum. It came to rest beneath the imposing wall, at least half a mile from the exit.