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The Chase (standard:adventure, 762 words)
Author: Derek HeathAdded: Mar 25 2003Views/Reads: 2272/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Our hero finds himself in a tight situation...
 



How on Earth had he got himself into this? What had made him think he
could do it? Watching 'The French Connection' and 'Bullitt' and Ronin' 
does not make you a getaway driver, anymore than watching the Super 
Bowl makes you a quarterback. He was panicking now. The police were on 
his tail and closing fast. 

Desperately, he fought with the steering-wheel. Turn into the skid.
Straighten up. Hit the pedal and the car began to fly down the main 
street. He glanced at the speedo. A hundred and twenty. Faster than 
he'd ever been. Concentrate on the road ahead. Red light. Dare he stop? 
Slow down? A glance at the rear-view mirror. Police car about thirty 
yards behind. Blue lights strobing across the night sky. Sirens 
screaming. Quick check in either direction. A bus approaching the 
junction. Could he beat it across? Milliseconds to decide. He went for 
it. A yank on the handbrake, swing the wheel to the right, release the 
brake and floor the gas again. 

Mirrors. Three police cars now, the nearest one had dropped back a
little. Maybe fifty yards behind now. A fingersnap at these speeds. He 
wasn't exactly sure where he was now. These warehouses didn't look 
familiar. Must be somewhere to hide up. All of a sudden, a truck loomed 
in front of him. A quick jink and he was past. Wrong side of the road 
now. Oncoming traffic bearing down on him. Horns blaring, trying to 
slalom out of his way. A red hatchback crunched into a lamp-post but he 
couldn't worry about them. He just had to get away. This was all about 
survival. Another check, the chasing pack still there. Where now? An 
alley on his left. Any port in a storm. Stamp on the brakes and dive 
down the narrow passage. Just enough room for the car to squeeze 
through. Paper and cardboard blowing all over the place. Please God, 
don't let there be a skip or a dustbin down here... 

The V8 burst out of the alley. Almost T-boned by an oncoming taxi. As it
was, it caught his car a glancing blow on the rear wing, swinging him 
round to the right. Foot flat to the floor again. The car leapt forward 
once more. The blare of the sirens had diminished. Had he out-run them? 
No blue beacons in his mirror. Had he done it? It looked that way. Time 
to get back to that lock-up. 

He backed off the gas. Now concentrate on driving as legally as
possible. He pulled up to another set of lights, waiting for the change 
to green. His heart jumped into his mouth. There was a police car 
cruising along the other side of the street. Had he seen him? 

Yes! Damn! Sirens began wailing. The sound boring into his head. The big
white saloon crossed the carriageway, heading straight for him. No 
choice. Stamp the pedal again and try and get away. A scream from the 
tyres. He controlled the slide better this time, and managed to slip 
past the onrushing patrol car. He heard the crash as it hit the wall 
alongside the road. He glanced in the mirror. The police car was 
reversing and he realised they weren't giving up. Got to lose them. Got 
to get to that rendezvous. Time running out now. He looked ahead. 
Roadblock! Oh, Christ! This was it, surely? No! There was a gap! Just 
wide enough. He bumped hard up onto the pavement. Aim the car directly 
at the space. This really was touch-and-go. Misjudged it slightly. Both 
sides of the car threw up sparks. One side scraped the wall and the 
other dragged along the front bumper of the nearest police car. But he 
was through the gap! 

He charged on. Getting really hairy now. He was sweating a lot. Worried
about losing his grip on the steering wheel. It'd only take one error. 
He was losing speed. Steering pulling badly to one side. Must have 
taken a real hammering at the roadblock. Maybe burst a tyre.  A police 
car literally on his rear bumper. A massive jolt, as he was rammed from 
behind. And again. And a third time.  Another desperate handbrake turn. 
The fatal mistake. The police car ploughed into him, broadside on, as 
he fought to get the car straight. Shoved the almost destroyed V8 into 
the wall of the factory on the opposite side of the road. That was it. 
Finished. It was all over...but he saw one more chance as he looked up. 


'GAME OVER. RETRY? YES/NO" 


   


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