On the Run by M Zeigler (short story to read TXT) 📖

the road. There are still a considerable amount of vehicles on the road but I can easily fix that. Approaching the next stop light I lay on the horn drawing everyone’s attention my way and bringing all vehicles to a stop. Another good thing about the people out in LA, they are often times easily startled by loud noises.

One truck in particular decides he’s not going to stop; I easily avoid said truck by driving around him however the driver almost blows the back end off of the SUV tailing me. That driver avoided Andrew’s car by mere inches, if either driver had of been moving at a faster or slower speed there would have been an accident back there.

Deciding the traffic lights aren’t worth my effort I make a last minute left turn down a side street, at the next stop signing following my turn I make another abrupt right hand turn. The plan is to follow this back road up six more streets then make another right, then a left that way I’m running six stop signs instead of six stop lights.

As I blast through the first stop sign I see a very nice neon blue class corvette with the top down on the left side of the four way stop. Andrew follows fast behind making me focus on the road instead of the nice car behind us. Once I’ve reached the last of the streets I make a sharp right turn and screech the tires again as well as accidentally taking out a fire hydrant as I make the turn. A little bit of luck has the traffic light ahead of me turned to green just as I’m reaching the crosswalk.

Teenagers sitting on the corner of the ice cream shop cheer with approval as I swing around the corner at high speeds sending a cloud of burned rubber into the air. With my foot firmly back on the gas pedal I look to my rear view mirror only to find that Andrew is behind me again, and so is that blue corvette, the driver in the car is Devon, I hadn’t realized earlier because I did have to watch the road ahead of me.

 As soon as the canyon is under the tires I down shift so that I can drift this canyon, a lot more easily, this canyon is a difficult and dangerous one to take at high speeds especially when you’re drifting. It’s not uncommon to come through here and see sand covering the pavement. It’s next to impossible to get good traction on sand covered newly paved roads, especially when my car already really needs new tires.

 For me it’s a little easier to take to the canyon at high speeds, I’ve done it many times before when I worked for Devon that I could drive this blind folded. Did I mention that Devon also runs the illegal street racing scene around here and this canyon is prime territory to race through?

Every night for the last year I lived at my dad’s I used to own this road, there never was a racer that could outrun me going through this canyon.  Andrew is no exception, especially in that bulky truck of his, all he can do is try to match my speed and just barely keep me in his view. Devon on the other hand? Well he’s no match in the way of out running me, but he definitely cannot beat me on a fast run through here.

The first two miles of horseshoe turns go without defect, Andrew matches me turn for turn only as I want him to. Devon doesn’t need to drift because his car has a lower wheel base so his ride is a lot smoother and more stuck to the ground.

 I need both vehicles to follow me up to the Angeles Crest intersection; at that point it’s all straight away open roads for eight miles, the down side. At the end of the eight mile stretch is a sharp right turn, if you miss that right turn you go soaring off into the wild blue yonder, this time of year the ground isn’t under water but it’s about fifty feet thick with gooey slick black mud.

Looking back to my rearview mirror I see Marty trying to hang out the window with a gun in his hand, he keeps trying to lock his sights onto me but every time he gets a solid lock I make a turn. Behind the black SUV is Devon’s still looking as weird as he always has with his neon blonde hair slicked straight back and sunglasses stuck to his face trying to act like the terminator.

His Corvette is a nineteen sixty six electric blue and chromed to the hilt, he spends more time waxing that car than he does taking care of himself.  The paint job is so nice it would just be a shame if someone were to destroy the paint with a thick layer of brown guck.

 Since I have two people in pursuit of me I step up the game a little just to see if they will try and keep up and what Devon will do to catch me. I step up the game by speeding up so much that I’m full on turned sideways while drifting around the corners. I can almost hear Andrew yell with aggravation when I speed up even more with my sights set on the wide horseshoe turn ahead. As I drift around this corner I am almost facing both vehicles that are chasing me, I smile pretty and flip them both the bird. Devon’s face turns to a deep rooted glare, his brown eyes narrow at me, he runs a hand through his terribly bleached hair and then jumps on the gas pedal roaring around the black SUV.

“Okay.” I laugh amusedly sounding like a little child as Devon causes his own henchmen’s vehicle to go soaring off the cliff to our right. The truck goes soaring off down a thirty foot drop into the dammed off river below. Lucky for Andrew and the others the dam is very full today, otherwise they would be dead men flying.

Looking at the bright side of this car chase I at least don’t have to slow down so that one of my two followers can keep up; in fact I’m able to go screaming through the canyon with Devon directly behind me.

Reaching the top of this hill I take the left hand fork in the road that descends down level with the river, this road will eventually double back to the surface streets close to Jacks house. The only turn between here and the surface streets is the eight mile mark where there is a sharp turn right turn. I find the rear view mirror again and see that Devon is still trying to kiss my bumper. Literally speaking, another inch and he will hit me!

 “Alright Devon, let’s see what you know.” I say skeptically as I adjust my seating position so that I am sitting perfectly straight in the seat. I up shift quickly until this blood red fastback is at her top speed of two hundred and five miles an hour. Devon manages to keep up but he not keeping up by much there is about a twenty foot gap between our vehicles.

As fast as I reach the top speed I have to slow down again because that turn is coming up fast, Devon apparently is repeating his father’s history of being so focused on the mark he forgets his surroundings because he isn’t slowing down he’s riding my bumper again. Coming up to the last quarter mile stretch I stay just ahead of Devon until the last possible second.

Up ahead is the ninety degree turn, with a paved outcropping that overlooks the empty but soggy pond, thankfully that butte is not strewn with dirt as it normally is. Having that extra ten feet of newly paved ground gives me the wiggle room I need right about now. At the last minute I seize up the brakes in my car and yank the steering wheel to the left, the front end of my car spins around a hundred and eighty degrees to a complete stop. I stop just as Devon flits by with wide scared eyes; he knows he cannot stop his prized car from flying off that cliff. The advantage that my car has that his doesn’t, mine is built for speed and doing tricky stunts, plus I have better breaks.

I watch as the blue corvette hits the end of the paved road and soars way out towards the center of the pond then arches down almost swan diving into the pond. As soon as I’m certain Devon’s car is at the bottom of the cliff I step out and walk to the end of the butte not even caring that my car is stopped in the middle of the road.

Approaching that edge of the butte I realize that part of me wishes that Devon smashed head first into a massive boulder and is dead. But he isn’t, he’s in fact standing on a boulder. Next to him is his corvette sunk up above the doors in mud, the gooey black nastiness is already oozing into the car forever destroying the interior.

Devon look from his car to me, he is covered from head to toe in mud and glaring daggers at me. If looks could kill, Devon might have won this war.

“Awe, what an ugly muddy puppy you are!” I taunt loud enough that I know Devon can hear me before turning back for my car satisfied that I destroyed Andrew’s SUV and then totaled out Devon’s prized classic. This mission just might be fun after all; I mean what could possibly go wrong playing security guard for a sexy southern rock star, while trying to dodge my insanely murderous cousin?

A bothersome sigh emits into the summer air bringing along the thought that, if I’m going to accomplish anything with this mission I really need to get my mind out of the gutter. Barrette can be considered a friend at this point I suppose, and nothing more than that, besides I refuse to be a one night stand for a rocker that I doubt I will ever see or hear from again when Devon is behind bars and we are all safe once again.

“Dad!” I call out when I enter the house, I can’t imagine anyone left the house today knowing I’m lurking around town. They would have waited for me to arrive home and then offer to either buy me dinner or help me cook dinner. There is an unspoken rule in this house that whenever I am here, I cook dinner, I’ve yet to meet a single person who hates my cooking. I have this certain special talent when it comes to dinner foods, I have managed to combine good old fashioned down home cooking with a bit of a Cajun kick making anything I cook irresistible to anyone eating.

Crash! There is a loud rumbling sound that comes from the direction of the garage seconds before an unfamiliar cat comes streaking through the house bound for the couch. At the edge of the couch the white ball of fluff that is a long haired Persian wriggles under only to turn around and peer out with huge scared eyes.

“Dad!” I shout again walking towards the garage. “What?” I hear a very disgruntled holler back, gazing nervously into the garage I see Jack standing by his tool box with about fifty or so boxes of miscellaneous garbage spilled all over the garage floor. So much for parking my car in the garage, I didn’t realize there was so much crap in this garage. Thinking it might be high time for spring cleaning I step fully into the garage to start helping pick up the boxes.

“I ran into Andrew Hannover today.” I say to Jack as I drop