might belong to an SUV. Like, say, a Bronco. “Where is she now?”
I looked at the screen. “Wait.” The light turned green, and still she sat, unfazed by the enormous vehicle inching its way toward her or the honks of the cars waiting behind the Bronco. I watched the blue dot slowly merge onto I-80. “She’s gone. Go for it.”
She turned slowly into the right lane. Mac tried to pull around her, eager to reach Carmen. Sera drifted into the left lane, blocking his way. “You’ve still got her?”
“Yep. She’s on 80, heading east.”
She drifted back to the right lane, easily cutting him off again. “Think he can find her from here?”
“Only if the shifters have a Vivian on staff. Otherwise, he’s just guessing.”
She grinned. “No one else has a Vivian.” She stuck in a tape and turned the volume up loud, raising her voice to be heard above the Pixies. “You know, I’ve always wanted to lose someone in a car chase.”
“Is that so?” I kept my voice calm while checking that my seat belt was secure and gathering some water from the air, just in case I needed it to repair injuries sustained in a car crash.
“Ade, I think today’s the day we strike that one from the bucket list.” With no further warning, she swung the wheel hard to the left, turning from the far right lane and crossing three lanes of traffic. Mac was right behind us, making the same treacherous turn.
“Good news is, we just got confirmation they don’t have a Vivian,” I said. “Bad news...”
“Bad news is Mac’s as damned stubborn as you are,” she finished. She made a sharp turn into an alley, and my entire body swayed in my seat, fighting for equilibrium. She barely slowed at the end of the alley, just long enough to confirm we wouldn’t die instantly if we pulled into traffic at that moment. The car hurtled across the street and darted into the next alley. Mac was forced to slow down to allow a truck to pass, but a moment later he was across the road and gaining on us with unexpected speed. Sera cursed. Her eyes scanned the approaching street, planning her next maneuver.
“Do try to remember that longevity isn’t the same as immortality, please.”
“How the hell is he making these turns? He drives a box on wheels.” A light bulb appeared to go off. She slowed down, driving almost like a normal person, and took a left at the next light, heading out of town and away from the freeway. She watched Mac follow us in the rearview mirror, grinning the whole time. “You know, it’s a good thing I know this area as well as I do.” Ten minutes later, we were well into the trees, driving along a twisting two-lane road with the Bronco following closely, expecting us to lead him toward the woman we were both tracking. “And a good thing we went to so many parties in college. Mac’s not much of a party guy, is he?”
“No, he’s not.” I smiled, quickly grasping her plan. Sure enough, a moment later she turned onto a dirt road, one many high school and university students had traversed in the years before they turned twenty-one and could legally hit the bars. At the end of this road was a clearing where countless kegs had been tapped and many a young party-goer had lost their virginity, the contents of their stomachs, or their dignity.
The place was famous both for its isolation and because it provided an exit strategy if a party was busted by the cops. This side of the clearing was blocked by an enormous fallen tree trunk, which was slightly raised on one end about a meter and a half off the ground. It wasn’t enough space for a cop car loaded with sirens or, for that matter, a large Bronco, but it provided plenty of room for a ‘66 Ford Mustang. Sera cruised underneath and sailed to the opposite side of the clearing, but Mac was forced to draw to a stop. For just a moment, he was close enough that I could see his face. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he might be laughing.
Sera was already on the only
I looked at the screen. “Wait.” The light turned green, and still she sat, unfazed by the enormous vehicle inching its way toward her or the honks of the cars waiting behind the Bronco. I watched the blue dot slowly merge onto I-80. “She’s gone. Go for it.”
She turned slowly into the right lane. Mac tried to pull around her, eager to reach Carmen. Sera drifted into the left lane, blocking his way. “You’ve still got her?”
“Yep. She’s on 80, heading east.”
She drifted back to the right lane, easily cutting him off again. “Think he can find her from here?”
“Only if the shifters have a Vivian on staff. Otherwise, he’s just guessing.”
She grinned. “No one else has a Vivian.” She stuck in a tape and turned the volume up loud, raising her voice to be heard above the Pixies. “You know, I’ve always wanted to lose someone in a car chase.”
“Is that so?” I kept my voice calm while checking that my seat belt was secure and gathering some water from the air, just in case I needed it to repair injuries sustained in a car crash.
“Ade, I think today’s the day we strike that one from the bucket list.” With no further warning, she swung the wheel hard to the left, turning from the far right lane and crossing three lanes of traffic. Mac was right behind us, making the same treacherous turn.
“Good news is, we just got confirmation they don’t have a Vivian,” I said. “Bad news...”
“Bad news is Mac’s as damned stubborn as you are,” she finished. She made a sharp turn into an alley, and my entire body swayed in my seat, fighting for equilibrium. She barely slowed at the end of the alley, just long enough to confirm we wouldn’t die instantly if we pulled into traffic at that moment. The car hurtled across the street and darted into the next alley. Mac was forced to slow down to allow a truck to pass, but a moment later he was across the road and gaining on us with unexpected speed. Sera cursed. Her eyes scanned the approaching street, planning her next maneuver.
“Do try to remember that longevity isn’t the same as immortality, please.”
“How the hell is he making these turns? He drives a box on wheels.” A light bulb appeared to go off. She slowed down, driving almost like a normal person, and took a left at the next light, heading out of town and away from the freeway. She watched Mac follow us in the rearview mirror, grinning the whole time. “You know, it’s a good thing I know this area as well as I do.” Ten minutes later, we were well into the trees, driving along a twisting two-lane road with the Bronco following closely, expecting us to lead him toward the woman we were both tracking. “And a good thing we went to so many parties in college. Mac’s not much of a party guy, is he?”
“No, he’s not.” I smiled, quickly grasping her plan. Sure enough, a moment later she turned onto a dirt road, one many high school and university students had traversed in the years before they turned twenty-one and could legally hit the bars. At the end of this road was a clearing where countless kegs had been tapped and many a young party-goer had lost their virginity, the contents of their stomachs, or their dignity.
The place was famous both for its isolation and because it provided an exit strategy if a party was busted by the cops. This side of the clearing was blocked by an enormous fallen tree trunk, which was slightly raised on one end about a meter and a half off the ground. It wasn’t enough space for a cop car loaded with sirens or, for that matter, a large Bronco, but it provided plenty of room for a ‘66 Ford Mustang. Sera cruised underneath and sailed to the opposite side of the clearing, but Mac was forced to draw to a stop. For just a moment, he was close enough that I could see his face. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he might be laughing.
Sera was already on the only
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