Public Enemy Zero

27

Charging down the road in a stolen tractor-trailer truck, Mitchell racked his brain for what to do next. Far from keeping a low profile, the giant rig made it difficult for him to slip into the night. There had to have been a better way to get a police scanner. He knew he needed to stay away from people, but he’d acted stupid. Just because he couldn’t see someone didn’t mean there weren’t people around.

He had to get rid of the truck, and fast. He wished he were a movie hero and could just head it toward a convenient cliff and fake his death by jumping out before it went over. He didn’t have the convenient cliff or athleticism to pull that off.

His next best option was to pull off the main road as soon as possible and park the truck somewhere it wouldn’t get noticed for a while. If he could do that, he might be able to buy enough time to get away from his pursuers.

In his head, he played out the fantasy of just keeping going in the huge rig. Screw roadblocks and chase helicopters. Driving an out-of-control tractor-trailer truck on a televised police chase was a much better way to go than getting stopped in a beat-up Hyundai and getting tackled five feet from the door.

Up ahead he saw a strip mall next to a car lot. If he could park the rig in the back alley behind the mall, he might have an extra few minutes. Mitchell accelerated. Hopefully the cops would drive right by before they realized that he’d taken a side street.

Mitchell jerked the wheel to the right to go down the narrow street between the car lot and the mall. The truck skidded into the turn. As soon as the truck pointed down the street, Mitchell stepped on the accelerator again liked he’d done a thousand times in his little car.

Only his little car never had a 10-ton trailer behind it with its own inertia. The back end of the trailer jackknifed into the center of the road and kept going. Burnt rubber smoke came from the wheels as the trailer swung past the rig like a pendulum.

Mitchell felt the back of the rig suddenly jerk behind him.

“Oh, fuck.” He gripped the wheel and braced for impact.

The trailer skidded across the street and flew up onto the sidewalk in front of the car lot. It knocked down a street lamp and a power line. It kept going and burst through the chain barrier that ran around the entire lot. Mitchell heard the trailer make a loud boom as the force of the impact ripped open riveted sections.

The truck itself began to tip over as the trailer smashed into a row of new Toyotas and pulled it over with it. Mitchell watched the back of the trailer make a shower of sparks in the driver’s side mirror before it was crushed between the street and the weight of the rig. He felt pain in his shoulder as he was thrown against the driver’s side door when it became the new down.

The trailer and rig slid a few more feet, sending cars flying before it came to a stop. Mitchell could hear what sounded like hundreds of car alarms go off all around him. That didn’t take long.

He lifted himself up off the door. Nothing felt broken or cut. While the backend of the trailer had been moving at 50 miles per hour, the truck cab was at the pivot point and moved more slowly when it rolled over. That was something to be thankful for, Mitchell thought half-heartedly.

The police were going to be on him even faster now. Mitchell had to get out of the rig. The windshield was still intact, so the only way out was the passenger side door.

Mitchell grabbed his backpack and stood up. He pulled the passenger’s side handle and pushed. The door didn’t want to move. Mitchell shoved again. The door opened a few inches and then fell shut again.

Mitchell looked around the cab interior and found his tire iron. He gave the windshield several whacks and it fell apart in thousand tiny pieces of glass. Mitchell stepped out onto the street and looked back at the damage.

The front part of the car lot was a complete wreck. A street light was crushed between the side of the trailer and row of smashed-in cars. Nearby he saw another broken pole being held up by two thick power cables. There was a loud crack as one of them gave out and the pole collapsed. The entire lot was thrown into darkness as the power went out.

Mitchell looked around. The entire neighborhood had just lost power. For several blocks in either direction, the street was covered in total darkness as the lights went out one by one. The only illumination at all was the flashing lights of the smashed cars as their alarms went off. Over the racket they made, Mitchell could hear sirens in the distance.

He guessed a blackout maybe was a good thing. It’d make it easier for him to hide if there were no street lights. Good parking job or not, Mitchell had to keep running either way.

Although the blackout could help him hide or least provide a distraction, he now had to worry about the people coming outside to have a look as they left their houses and trailers behind the strip mall. Running into them would only make things worse. He’d had enough human contact for the night.

Mitchell put his other arm into a backpack strap and ran down the dark street between the car lot and the strip mall. He wanted to go another two blocks and then take a side street and head toward the marina. It was still the best plan he had. If he couldn’t find a boat there or near there, he didn’t know what else to do, other than literally find some sewer pipe to crawl into and wait for a better idea.

As a defensive measure, he kept a tight grip on the tire iron in his right hand. It’d saved his life twice in the last few minutes. He felt safer knowing that it was ready at his side.