Lab Rat part 79

Posted: April 20, 2011 in Fiction, Test Subject
Tags: , ,

“Pull past Jennifer,” he yells. I let the clutch out slowly, and the machine rumbles like a hungry beast. It rolls forward at an idle. I can hear Dad shooting out the back doors. We roll past Jennifer, and I can see the helicopter descending on the parking lot. Its rotors blow the smoke clear, and I get my first good look at it. It’s strikingly similar to the last one I saw. I still don’t know what kind of guns those are on either side of it, but I doubt that my new van will hold up under any sort of fire from them. I tap the gas and yell, “You gotta grab her! We gotta go!” The van growls and speeds up. Dad stops firing as the nose of the van passes Jennifer. I speed up. I risk a look back, and Dad’s hanging on to one of the handles by the door and leaned out over the street. He reaches out toward the parking lot, and I see his muscles go taut with the sudden extra load of his girlfriend. He hauls her into the van by the waist and pulls one of the doors shut. I take that as my cue to gun it.

Black smoke belches from the back of the van and the diesel engine whistles as we rocket forward. I strip my mask the rest of the way off as we tear down the street. Dad and Jennifer are messing with the gear behind me like I knew they would. I check my mirrors. I’m dismayed but not surprised; the helicopter is following, along with two cruisers. As soon as Johnson’s team on the backside of the building saddles up, they’ll be on us too. So will every other government agent in the city. Oh well. Dad did say that my definition of victory would have to be revised. “Great plan, kid.” Dad’s over my shoulder. “We’re going to have to fight our way in and out.”

“I know. At least we know where to go.”

“True. Hate to say it, but I’ve seen worse plans.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah.” He’s pulling out another toothpick.

“You gonna tell me why Johnson set up shop in a hospital?” There’s the roadblock that kept the street clear coming up. A couple of cop cars, lights on, and officers diverting traffic to the left and right. I drop the van down a gear, and hit the gas. “Uh, hang on to something.”

“Honey, get yourself secured,” my dad yells over his shoulder. I aim for the gap between the two police cruisers. The cops don’t seem to be aware of me just yet. Apparently I’m still ahead of the radio. That won’t last. I pull the seatbelt over my shoulder and snap it into place. I’ve never intentionally hit anything with a car before. At least this thing is only treads away from being a tank. We slam into the front quarter and back quarter of the cruisers. The sound of a palm across a face fills the air, blended with tires screeching as the rubber is forced sideways on the pavement. I lurch forward and keep my foot mashed on the gas pedal. I open my eyes again.

[Personal note missing. Need more Rockstar to function.]


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