Getaway Car [HS]

Chapter Forty-Eight

The ride down to the parking garage is the longest one they've ever taken. Seconds pass, and, as they do, the sound of the sirens that were further off encroach closer and closer on the 7x6 elevator shaft they are locked inside of until they reach the level of the hotel that can connect them to the garage. A pleasant ding reverberates through the room, the doors opening for them to step through, and they both already have the guns they took from the closet raised to defend themselves from any waiting cops or federal agents.

When they find that the level appears to be empty, they don't lower their guns, they run out into the open space and rush up the incline of the nearest turn to ascend to the next level of the garage. Though it appears like there aren't any people waiting to arrest or shoot at them, they don't bother climbing all the way up to the top level to reach the Jaguar. There is not enough time.

So, as they run up another level, she scans the lineup of cars for the most formidable racing vehicle that can be found. Luckily for her, Harry lives in an upscale building filled with residents who can afford the best of the best, so finding her car of choice isn't an impossible challenge as it would've been at her old place.

"This one," she says and turns sharply to the right to rush up to the side of the Ford Mustang parked between two other cars.

Harry simply stands guard, keeping his body between her and anyone that may approach, as she lifts the hood to the car beside it in search of the spark plugs. Thank God she remembered to pack the multi-tool Peter gifted her for her sixteenth birthday years ago. If not for that, she wouldn't be able to take one of the spark plugs from the vehicle right now. He doesn't dare to ask her why she's stealing the plugs from a random car considering her newly developed rage for him. Instead, he simply watches as she takes one of the plugs in her gloved hands and slams the hood back down with the other. The porcelain portion is easily smashed into pieces beneath the force of her bashing it with the wrench she used to remove it from the car.

She says, "Step back," and winds her arm back to throw the piece at the driver's side window with as much strength as she can muster.

The window shatters into the vehicle instantaneously, and Harry's brows shoot up his forehead in surprise as she yanks the door open and throws her backpack into the back seat. The shattered glass that fell onto the seat is wiped away with haste, clattering on the pavement along with the stolen spark plug she tosses aside for the car's owner to find.

"How the hell did that work?" he asks, walking around the other side of the car to wait while she makes quick work of hot-wiring it.

It isn't until the engine sparks to life a few moments later and they're both settled into place in their respective seats that she explains, "Not only are spark plugs dense as fuck, but they have aluminum oxide ceramic insulators. Basically? It carries a lot more force in a small point. Enough to break a windshield if you throw it hard."

When she presses her foot down on the gas, the car reverses with a speed that threatens to churn his stomach with sickness as she whips it around to drive down each level of the garage. Unlike most times he looks over at her when she drives, she isn't smiling. Her face is hardened, eyes glaring ahead, and she doesn't spare him a single look in the time it takes for her to exit the building he knows she could navigate with her eyes closed.

The second they get to the end of the street, blue and red flashing lights come into view each of the mirrors, accompanied by the grating noise of the sirens that have been approaching for at least five minutes now. But, she doesn't slam down on the pedal as he expects her to with the cops appearing behind them.

"We need to go," he says, looking over his shoulder through the back window. "Harley—"

"Just wait," she snaps at him, turning the wheel to the left as though they have an eternity stretching out ahead of them for their journey to freedom rather than a half hour. At most.