Numbered

Chapter 17 - Fleeing the Scene

Zeke crouched next to the old lady's van, peering around it to see if she was around. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and sweat covered just about every inch of his body. His heart was pounding so hard against his rib cage, it started to hurt. He saw the old lady turn her head and he ducked back behind the van. A second later, the door slammed shut and some screaming could be heard from inside. It had been a week and Angelica was still not getting along with her grandmother. Serves the old bitch right for shooting him and grounding her for the remainder of her life, however long that may be. He maneuvered himself into a squatting position and glanced into the passenger side window. With a sigh of relief, he saw the keys sitting in the ignition, just waiting for him to steal the vehicle.

It had taken Zeke a couple days to gain the confidence to even go through with this crazy plan. Anyone one else who was in his position would have viewed it as a suicide mission, given he was threatened with his life should he return. The whole week he spent memorizing movements and deviations and it gave his leg the time to heal, as best as it could anyway. He still had a limp, but that would have to do for this. Creeping around the side, he opened the driver's side door and ducked, closing it as quietly as he could. Thankfully, the two inside were still in a screaming match, so they never heard the door close. Grasping the key, he took a deep breath and turned it in the ignition. The van let out a roar and the door to the house instantly flung open.

"You lowlife piece of shit," she screamed, reaching into the house and pulling out her shotgun.

Zeke put the van into reverse and careened out of the driveway, just as a shot rang out. Just as Zeke ran over her mailbox, the left side headlight shattered from the bullet. Quickly putting it into drive, he peeled away as another shot was fired. This one blew off the driver side mirror and sent glass shards flying in every direction. His hand flew up to his face as a sharp pain erupted in his left cheek, which only served to worsen the pain. He felt the warm blood trickle down his cheek and drip onto his pant leg. Taking on a dare devil attitude, he twisted in his seat to look back at the house, just to flip her off. Instead, he saw the old lady have a fit of rage and shot at the closest thing to her: Angelica. The last person he knew dropped to the floor like a rock, blood flowing all over the porch from her lifeless body. 

His vision began to cloud over as tears threatened to run down his face uncontrollably. Tearing his sight away from the murder, he focused back on the road, only to find himself kissing the pavement. The van crashed into a tree, crushing the front end beyond recognition and throwing him out the front windshield. As he hit the ground, he felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg from the spot where he had been shot last week. Rising to his knees, he looked back at the wreckage and swore under his breath. Time to find another car to steal, considering he got his revenge...in a way. A shout from behind made him turn white with horror. Looking back, he saw the old lady running down the slope, shotgun raised and aimed. Jumping to his feet with a wince of pain, he started to limp run down the road, not daring to glance back.

A shot rang out and he felt a gust of air as the bullet sped by his face. Another came, this one sending up an orange spark as it struck the ground. A third tore through his clothing and skimmed his hip. Then, there was a click; a sigh escaped his lips at the relief of no more bullets. Coming to a stop, he spun around to face his attempted murderer. She was still running at him, except the gun was raised above her head. Coming within inches of him, she swung downward, a smile spreading across her face at the thought of finally killing the boy behind her distress. Instead, there was a crack as the gun snapped into half from the impact with the concrete. Balling up his fist, Zeke took a deft swing at her face and connected with the middle of her throat. The old lady dropped to her knees and her hands were wrapped around her neck, blood starting to fill her mouth. Her breath came in wheezes, quickly becoming shallower and shorter until her eyes glazed over and she tumbled to the ground. 

"Serves you right, bitch," Zeke spat vehemently. 

Turning away from the corpse, he limped his way back to the van, despite the fact it was totaled and completely useless. Placing his back to the side, he slid to the ground as most teenagers did when they were slightly distressed. Who the hell was he kidding? He was way past distressed. If kids could have heart attacks, he would have had a few dozen by now. Taking a few breaths, he rose back to his feet and looked around. Sitting around was not going to do him any good, especially when he should have left Washington days ago. Down the road, his eyes lit up at the sight of the car of his dreams. Sitting in a driveway, looking brand spanking new, was a Lamborghini Gallardo. Resorting to his limp run, he reached the beauty in a matter of minutes, tearing open the driver side door and sliding into the seat.

He reached for the door handle to close it when a loud roar met his ears. Looking around outside, he did not spot anything that could have made the nose. Shrugging his shoulders, he closed the door and searched for the car keys. Shrugging his shoulders, he began to search for the keys. His first guess was the visor, but that turned up nothing. Outside, he heard a crash not too far away and he looked around again. You are hearing things Zeke, he thought. There is nothing out there. He opened the middle console and tore through the junk in there and still found nothing. Extending across the seat, he opened the glove compartment and to his surprise, there were the keys lying in plain sight. As he grabbed them, his eyes flickered out the window, just as a reflex to his previous paranoia. He felt his face turn white as he saw a giant wall of water rising over the hillcrest, rapidly descending toward him.

Without a second's hesitation, he shoved the keys into the ignition and started the car. Disregarding safe driving completely, he maneuvered the car into a sharp turn and ran over a couple more mailboxes as he peeled away. Right behind him, the wave crashed down, shaking the road with such intensity, he could feel it in the car. He slammed his foot onto the gas as the roaring water came closer, threatening to wash him away. Glancing at the speedometer, a smirk crossed his face as the needle pointed to almost 220. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could see the water falling slowly behind, unable to match the speed of the Lamborghini. Turning back to the road, his heart dropped to his stomach as he zoomed toward a hill. Reaching the top, the car flew off the pavement, soaring into the air like a giant bird. Yet, the exhilaration of such a moment passed quickly as the car crashed back down to the road. It hit the ground with a devastating tearing of metal ripped through the car. Suddenly, the speedometer dropped from 220 to 0 in five seconds flat. 

"NO! No, no, no, no, no," Zeke shouted, smacking the wheel. Glancing back, he saw the water tear over the hill he just flew off. He turned the key in the ignition, hoping the car would start, but it just remained dead. Casting another quick glance back, the water approached like a torrent, ready to sink its fangs into the car. The wave hit the car with such an abrupt force, Zeke's head flew forward, smashing against the wheel. The sheer force of the impact made him lose consciousness.