when the passenger lunged out of the car, which had to be traveling at least forty miles per hour.
He didn’t get completely clear of the vehicle and hit the pavement right in the path of the rear tires.
6
CARLY WINCED as she saw the rear tires of the fleeing vehicle roll over the passenger’s legs. She called out, “Joe!” then steered the patrol car away from the rolling figure.
“The passenger jumped out! Passenger in the street!” Joe radioed to the assisting units.
Carly stayed after the green car, and an assisting unit answered that they would take care of the passenger.
Carly’s knuckles were white on the wheel as she strained against a taut seat belt.
Then Trey lost it. He clipped a parked car, and the green sedan spun out of control. Carly slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop as the car they were chasing slammed into another parked car and finally came to rest. Unbelievably,Trey hurtled from the driver’s side immediately and hit the pavement running.
Joe leaped from the patrol car while Carly took a second to jam it into park. Then she was out, legs pumping, after her partner.
Joe was half a block ahead of her by the time she hit her stride. Then everything went sideways. Carly watched in horror as Joe tripped on something and went down hard, skidding across the sidewalk and smashing into a fence. His flashlight shattered on the pavement and bits flew everywhere.
“Are you okay?” She reached him quickly, but Trey had vanished.
“Ah, I twisted my knee,” Joe moaned, grabbing his leg and rocking back and forth.
The sound of feet running up behind them caused Carly to turn. She saw Nick and Mickey. Nick started to slow, but she waved him on.
“I’ve got this! He went right toward the alley.” She pointed.
Nick nodded, and he and his partner disappeared into the night after Trey.
Flanagan and Lopez came running up next, and Carly also waved them on in the direction Porter had gone.
She keyed her mike to set up a perimeter, concentrating, wanting to be certain she made it the right size so Porter would be caught inside. She also requested that K-9 start their way in the event Porter hunkered down somewhere. Everybody knew Trey Porter; he was one of those frequentfliers many officers had contacted or arrested for one reason or another over the years. Someone even came on the air and offered to go by Porter’s house.
Carly knelt next to Joe and listened as the intersections she called out were covered. Then she turned her full attention back to Joe. His pants were torn and so was the elbow of his shirt. Spots of blood were noticeable in those places and on his scraped palm.
“You want medics?” she asked Joe.
He shook his head. “No, I’ll make it back to the car. Once K-9 gets here, you can take me to Memorial.”
“We got a perimeter up quick,” she said as she helped him up. “They’ll catch him.”
Joe leaned on Carly, wincing when he had to put weight on his left leg. Together they made their way back to the car, Joe obviously in pain. On the way, she saw an uneven spot where the asphalt met the concrete and realized that was probably what Joe had tripped over.
Joe saw it too. “Man, why did I have to trip? Why couldn’t Porter have hit that?” he muttered with disgust.
Carly heard fire department sirens and from the radio traffic knew that they’d been summoned to look after the passenger who’d bailed out of the stolen car.
Joe settled into the police car and turned up the radio. Carly heard Nick’s voice, and her heart raced.
“He’s headed out toward Chestnut.” Nick’s breath came hard from the chase.
Carly hooked her thumbs in her gun belt and tensed.
“We got nothing on the southwest corner of Chestnut and Ninth,” Flanagan said.
“He doubled back!” Mickey added.
“He’s—” Nick started to say something, then stopped.
“Gang 1, 10-9 your last.” The dispatcher asked him to repeat.
Carly held her breath.
“Can anyone with Gang
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