The Darkest Day

FIFTY-FOUR

Their xenon headlights gave them away even before Victor could make out their distinctive shape and manufacturer’s badge on the grille. He worked the gear shift and accelerated away, the big eight-cylinder engine of the Chrysler working hard and doing what it was designed to do. The difference in acceleration to the taxi was monumental. He sped between the Audis, which had to brake hard and swing U-turns to give chase, one driver handling it better than the other and losing only seconds.

Even with a head start, the lead Audi was catching fast. It was almost as powerful as the Chrysler, but much lighter — a far better power-to-weight ratio and more grip from four-wheel drive resulting in better acceleration.

Victor shot under an overpass, turning when he came out the other side, heavy back end sliding out but under control. The black Audi followed, just as controlled, but much faster because it was four-wheel drive.

Victor accelerated past a slow-moving SUV on the outside, then cut inside to avoid a taxi. He saw the black sedan close behind, impossible to shake. In a straight line the Chrysler would pull away with its bigger engine, but on city streets the more manoeuvrable Audi had the considerable advantage.

‘Gun,’ Raven warned.

Victor saw the man in the passenger seat was readying his pistol.

They raced down a sloping road, out of the black city and towards the bay. Victor braked and swerved to avoid a cyclist and the Audi caught up the last of the gap, coming alongside him on the near side.

The passenger — a man with a shaved head and small, sunken eyes — took aim with his Ruger and squeezed the trigger.

Raven was already down, and Victor dropped low in the seat as shattered glass scattered over him. More shots thudded into metal and smashed small holes in glass.

A stamp of the brakes sent the Audi shooting past him. Victor swung the wheel, taking the Chrysler into the closest street, knocking over trash cans on the corner and almost hitting a lamp post as two wheels went up the kerb.

The black sedan swerved on to the street behind him, faster, smoother.

The second Audi appeared, having headed him off, guided by the guys in the first car. It swerved into him from the side, forcing him towards the centre of the road and the oncoming traffic. Victor worked the steering wheel and pulled the silver Chrysler ahead of the Audi, which then charged him from behind.

Gunshots popped behind him. The rear bumper came loose at one end, dragging along the road, and Victor jolted in his seat, for a second losing control as the car fishtailed back and forth. Raven shot out a palm to brace against the dashboard.

Another charge, this time into the driver’s side rear fender.

The collision knocked the air from Victor’s lungs and hit the right spot to send the Chrysler spinning. He grimaced, g-force flattening him against the seat as the tyres squealed and smoked and fragments of destroyed bodywork and bumper clattered on the asphalt. Pebbles of windscreen glass rained down over the car in a brief storm.

The Chrysler ended up perpendicular to the Audi, which collided with the car yet again and propelled it along the road in a T-shape of moving metal.

More shots came Victor and Raven’s way, but with better accuracy now they were an almost stationary target. A .22 calibre bullet took a chunk out of the steering wheel. Another tore a hole through the driver’s seat. Victor smelled the melted and burned foam.

He ducked and changed into reverse and scraped away from the Audi, metal shrieking against metal, which knocked the Chrysler’s nose straight again as it sped past. A brake light exploded.

Victor slammed the brakes, changed back to drive, turned the wheel and accelerated towards the Audi as it braked as well to perform a U-turn, and headed his way. A panel van swerved to avoid the oncoming black sedan and tipped on to its side, blocking the lane.

‘This is going to hurt,’ Victor said to Raven, who nodded.

The Audi driver realised Victor’s intention too late as both Victor and Raven turned their heads ninety degrees, and had no time to get out of the way before Victor rammed the Audi head-on.

On impact, the Chrysler’s driver airbag exploded out of the steering wheel and slammed into the side of Victor’s head with enough force to have broken his nose. The strong, heavy build of the Chrysler did what it was designed to and protected Victor and Raven while demolishing the front of the Audi and pushing it back and into a half-spin of its own.

He reversed away while the two men inside were still dazed, and spun the Chrysler into a one-eighty, because the other Audi had appeared in his rear-view.

He accelerated away, taking the next available intersection, the rear bumper only half attached and scraping along the road surface. Horns blared and tyres screeched. Brake dust, rainwater and smoke swirled together in the cold air.

Rundown storefronts flashed by. Citizen volunteers directing traffic fled out of the way as he raced towards them, the black Audi sedan in pursuit.

A police cruiser rushed towards Victor and Raven, but made no effort to block or engage. It raced past them, on its way to some other violation. Maybe in pursuit of a stolen yellow taxi.

The Chrysler struggled on, damaged and dented in many places, but still drivable. He followed a ramp down into a tunnel. Without lights it was black save only for the headlights of the vehicles within, travelling even slower than usual because of the poor visibility.

They were easier to swerve around as a result, for Victor and their pursuers. The horns sounding in their wake were louder down here, piercing and incessant. The Audi hurtled closer and closer.

They exited the tunnel, the rain and puckered windscreen obscuring the road ahead. Victor gripped hard on the steering wheel as he struggled to see through the downpour, accelerating fast, vehicles and buildings blurring by. He tensed to stop sliding in his seat as the Chrysler’s wheels lost traction on the wet road surface. The tyres screeched, rainwater misting in huge clouds.

He stayed with the wet street as it veered deeper into the industrial neighbourhood.

The Audi shunted him from behind. Bullets exploded through the rear windscreen. Sheets of cracked glass disintegrated and fell away. The Chrysler lost both wing mirrors at the same time as he squeezed it between a Jeep and a bus. Orange sparks flared as metal grinded and screeched against metal.

Horns and the screech of tyres filled his ears. He weaved the car through tight turns, roaring exhaust alerting pedestrians ahead to get out of the way.

Reverberations told him the car was taking more rounds, this time to the chassis. One passed through the interior and tore away a chunk of dashboard plastic. Raven used an arm to shield her face from the shrapnel. Another took out the odometer. The driver’s side window fell apart.

Rainwater came through the destroyed window, splashing his face and getting into his eyes. He used a sleeve to wipe them clear.

A bullet had damaged the Chrysler’s wiper controls and they ceased swinging back and forth. In seconds the windscreen was covered in rainwater, reducing visibility even further. He strained to see through it. Sooner or later he would crash into something.

He pulled a ninety-degree turn at speed. The rear wheels lost grip and slipped away, tyres skidding across the asphalt. The Audi followed through the tyre smoke and spray, its own turn wider, but more controlled. It dented and scraped against parked cars as it accelerated in chase.

Victor wrenched the wheel from side to side to keep the Chrysler moving and a harder target for the gunman in the passenger seat of the Audi. The faster, more manoeuvrable vehicle charged past other cars, clipping bumpers and fenders and causing them to skid and crash.

Muzzle flashes brightened the Chrysler’s rear-view mirror and Victor ducked low as rounds punched holes in the safety glass of the windscreen before him. He repositioned himself to see through them. The passenger window was hit and fragmented, cascading glass across the road.

Ahead the street fell away at a sharp gradient.

Raven said, ‘Speed up.’

He glanced at her.

‘Then brake,’ she explained.

Victor hesitated, then realised what she meant and stamped the accelerator before braking hard a second before they reached the drop.

The Chrysler flew over the crest of the slope, all four wheels leaving the road surface. For a second the vehicle gained altitude, leaving a comet trail of sparkling glass pebbles, misting rainwater and tyre smoke, before gravity tipped the nose forward and pulled the front bumper down and crashing into the asphalt. It cracked and distorted, falling clear as the tyres then hit the road an instant later and the suspension bounced the nose back up. The rear tyres found the ground and the whole car shook and skidded.

Victor hung on to the steering wheel, in part to control the car and in part to prevent himself flailing around.

The passenger’s side rear tyre peeled away. The Chrysler swerved and skidded on the wet street, losing control, splashing up rainwater, tipping on to two tyres while swaying and zigzagging off the road and on to the pavement and then back again. The Chrysler tipped over from two wheels and flipped on to the roof, momentum carrying it back over on to four wheels again, groaning and shuddering to a stop. Pebbles of glass scattered across the road surface as the vehicle rocked from side to side against its suspension.

The pursuing Audi followed over the slope’s crest, faster and lighter, the driver not braking as Victor had done — not seeing the coming slope in time — gaining more altitude and flying over a longer arc. The vehicle then had further to fall and with more force. The nose tipped forward past sixty degrees, almost to ninety, almost dropping straight down on to the road. The bumper crushed and the headlights exploded. Fenders crumpled along with the bonnet, flames flaring from the crushed engine.

The car skidded forward on its nose for a split second before tipping over on to the roof, metal whining, and glass smashing. Upside down, it slid along the sloping road surface, sparks trailing behind in a glowing shower.

The upturned Audi came to a slow stop. Glass and dust and debris filled the air. Steam and smoke billowed from the engine. Flames hissed in the rain. Three wheels spun useless, trying to grip nothing but air. The fourth had come off and arched away, landing on and denting the roof of an approaching minivan.

The two guys in the Audi hung upside down, suspended by seat belts. Blood smeared the passenger’s shaved head. Neither man was moving much.

Victor squinted away the pain and checked for injuries. His neck ached from the whiplash and he was sore where the seat belt had dug into his shoulder and chest, but there was nothing worse to be concerned about.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

Raven nodded, grimacing. ‘Never better.’

He turned the ignition key. The starter motor whined, weak and fading. Not surprised, Victor gave up but remained in the Chrysler while he looked around for other enemies. They were exposed while stationary, but the dense bodywork, heavy chassis, big engine block, and even the thick chairs, all offered significant protection from the low-powered .22 calibre rounds their hunters were using. If more gunmen were near he would prefer to be shot at while inside the vehicle than while on the coverless street.

When he was as sure as he could be that there were no immediate threats, he tried the door release but the door wouldn’t open. It was stuck fast. The frame had buckled, steel warped and unyielding to his strength. The windows were too small to crawl through with any kind of speed so he used a palm to punch out the remains of the windscreen, and twisted and pulled himself through the resulting gap. Raven did the same.

Onlookers stood aghast. No one was yet brave enough to approach. Some took out phones to take pictures or video recordings. Victor kept his face turned away.

He stood, a little unsteady, and walked backwards away from the wrecked vehicle, watching the street for more pursuers. He turned when he saw none, and hurried to the upturned Audi.

He pulled open the closest door and squatted to retrieve the passenger’s Ruger from where it lay on the inside of the roof. He went through their pockets, but aside from a radio transmitter these guys were operating sterile. The passenger groaned and wheezed, one eye filled with blood but one open and staring at Victor.

Help me, the man mouthed. Please.

Victor mouthed, No.

He pushed the radio into a pocket and tucked the Ruger into his waistband and under his shirt and hurried away along the pavement past a grand office building while a couple of young guys approached the crash, looking for people to help or perhaps wanting a better view of any bodies.

Raven said, ‘We need to go. Now.’

At the corner of the block Victor glanced over his shoulder to see the Audi he had rammed earlier reaching the crash site. The passenger was jumping out for a closer look at the wrecked Chrysler. He saw Victor was not inside and rushed back to the Audi, shaking his head. He had no interest in the upside-down vehicle or the fate of the two guys inside.

Victor watched from the shadows until the Audi had disappeared into the night.