The four-lane highway stretched out in front of me, straight as an arrow, dark as a bottomless pit. At a blistering sixty miles an hour, I knew I had no shot at losing the car tailing us. It felt more like a twisted game of cat and mouse, except the only place I could hide was in my rearview mirror.
Those yellow headlights behind us were creeping closer and closer.
Ashley, tense in the passenger seat, kept glancing over her shoulder at them, her face pale in the dim glow from the dashboard. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, fixed on the lights. I gave her a nudge with my knee.
“Can we get off this road?” I yelled over the roar of the engine.
She blinked, snapping out of her trance.
“There’s a turn coming up soon,” she replied, her voice shaky.
I flicked off the headlights, trying to lose the car tailing us. But they were still about a quarter mile back. I strained my eyes, searching for the sign marking the turn. Almost missed it.
“There!” Ashley cried, her hand gripping my arm.
“Hold on!” I shouted back.
I slammed on the brakes, the car’s tires screeching in protest. Ashley braced herself, hands on the dashboard, her body swaying against me as the car fishtailed, back wheels locked tight. For a split second, the wheels lifted off the ground. My heart pounded in my chest. I released the brakes, and we shot down the narrow, winding road, the sharp bends forcing my speed down to a nerve-wracking thirty miles per hour.
Driving without headlights on a road that twisted like a snake, I had to fight to keep us on the asphalt. After what felt like an eternity but was only a few hundred yards, Ashley gasped from the backseat.
“They passed us! They missed the turn!”
“Where does this road go?” I asked, flipping the headlights back on, easing the speed up to forty.
“Coral Hills,” she answered, her voice still trembling. “It’s a small beach town.”
“Can we get back on the highway to Baltimore from there?”
She shook her head. “No. This is the only road in and out. They’ll double back. They’ll figure out we took the turn!” Her voice rose in panic, and she clenched her fists in frustration.
She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“Calm down,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’ll ditch the car, find somewhere to hide. If I can find a phone, I’ll call the Baltimore Police. They’re tight with Coral Hills cops. I think Coral Hills is part of their district anyway.”
The road began to straighten, and I spotted the faint glow of streetlights up ahead. I stepped on the gas, pushing the speedometer higher.
Ashley gripped my arm tighter.
“They’re coming!” she gasped.
I glanced in the mirror. Sure enough, the headlights were back, blazing down the winding road behind us. I floored the gas pedal, and the Pontiac shot forward like a bullet.
Just then, a neon sign flashed ahead: *Turn left for Coral Hills Motel.*
I killed the headlights again and yanked the car to the left, tires screeching as we barreled down a narrow driveway that led into a large parking lot. There were at least forty or fifty cars parked in neat rows. I swung the Pontiac into a spot beside a dusty Mazda sedan, hit the brakes hard, and the car came to a screeching halt.
I jumped out, heart racing, adrenaline pumping.
“Come on!” I shouted, motioning to Ashley.
I could see the headlights of the car swing into the drive-in, their bright beams cutting through the night like searchlights. Grabbing Ashley’s wrist, I yanked her along with me across the car park, our feet pounding the pavement as we darted through a double gateway. The path was rough, scattered with cinders that crunched under our feet, leading us into a large grass-covered lot, surrounded by fifty or so shadowy cabins, like silent sentinels in the night.
In the center of the lot stood the cabin housing the renting office, dark and unwelcoming. My pulse quickened as I felt the cold weight of Hwang’s gun in my hand. Glancing back, I saw the car park glowing from the headlights of the following car.
There was no time to waste. I tried the office door—locked, of course. "Damn it," I muttered under my breath. We needed cover, fast. Seconds were all we had.
Then I heard it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps, someone running down the cinder path toward us. My stomach clenched. I bolted, pulling Ashley along as we raced across the grass toward a row of dark, silent cabins. One of them had a “vacant” sign hanging from the front door handle. Bingo.
I released Ashley’s hand for a moment, leaping up the two steps to yank the sign off. Then I was back beside her, grabbing her hand again and tugging her around to the back of the cabin. I hurled the sign into the darkness. No time to think.
“We’ll get in here,” I panted, trying to catch my breath.
I spotted a back window that was slightly ajar, and without hesitating, I wedged my fingers under the frame and shoved it up. “Hold on,” I whispered to Ashley. With one arm around her waist and the other under her knees, I hoisted her through the window, my muscles burning from the effort. I scrambled in after her, pulling the window shut and locking it.
“They’ll find us,” she said, her voice shaking. “They’ll trap us like rats.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I replied, crouching by the window, my eyes darting through the shadows outside. The tension was thick, suffocating. I could hear her rapid breathing behind me, and it made me even more on edge.
Silence. Just the heavy darkness pressing in on us. No footsteps, no voices.
“I’m going to check if there’s a phone,” I said, rising to my feet.
The cabin was pitch black as I fumbled my way across the room, groping for anything familiar. My hand found a door. I pushed it open and was swallowed by more darkness. Flicking a match to life, I saw a narrow passage. Another door was on the left. I snuffed the match out and cautiously turned the handle.
Inside, I found a sitting room. I moved toward the window, careful to stay out of view, and peeked outside. My heart skipped a beat. There, right in the middle of the neatly trimmed lawn, stood Ryan. Even in the faint light of the cloud-covered moon, his bulky frame was unmistakable. His back was to the cabin, and in his hand gleamed the cold steel barrel of a gun.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and yanked the curtains shut. Another match sparked to life in my hand, and I saw it—a telephone on a small table by the window. Rushing over, I snatched the receiver and dialed emergency.
The operator’s voice crackled with politeness. She seemed eager to assist.
“Baltimore Police,” I said, my voice low but firm. Sweat clung to my back, my heart hammering in my chest as I listened to the clicks on the line.
“Baltimore Police Headquarters,” a gruff voice answered.
“Is Captain Donald Pomperleau there?” I asked, my nerves threatening to spill over.
“No, he’s not,” the voice said with no sympathy. “Who’s calling?”
“Put me through to Sergeant Bruce,” I demanded.
“Hold on,” the voice replied, followed by more clicks.
Finally, Bruce’s voice came through. “Bruce talking.”
“It’s Emeka,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “How are you, Bruce?”
“I’m doing great, Emeka,” Bruce answered, sounding calm as ever. “What’s going on with you?”
“Not good, man. Not good at all,” I replied, trying to keep my cool. “I’m holed up in a motel in Coral Hills. There are two gunmen after me, and I need help. Can you do anything?”
“I’ll handle it,” Bruce said confidently before hanging up.
I stumbled back to the other room, my legs trembling. Ashley was by the window, her silhouette outlined by the faint light filtering through the curtains.
“The police are on their way,” I whispered, trying to sound reassuring. “They’ll be here soon. Did you see anyone?”
“No,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The air in the room was thick with fear, and outside, the night pressed in on us like a predator waiting for its prey.
I could feel her trembling beside me, her fear nearly as palpable as the cold air pressing against the windows. We stood side by side, watching, listening. Every creak of the floorboards sent chills through the room.
Suddenly, her hand clamped onto my wrist, cold as ice. "Did you hear something?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I held my breath, straining to listen. Somewhere in the cabin, a board groaned under weight. In the tense silence, it sounded like an alarm. Ashley shivered violently, her grip tightening around me.
"Take it easy," I whispered, my lips so close to her face I could feel her breath. "Move as quietly as you can." I led her slowly across the room to the door, every step deliberate. Pressing her against the wall, I positioned her so that if anyone came through, she'd be behind the door and out of sight.
But then, another board creaked—this time outside. The sound of a door opening down the passage sent a shiver of dread down my spine.
"They're here," Ashley gasped, her voice trembling.
"Leave it to me," I said, though I barely believed my own words. Confidence was the last thing I felt. My heart was thundering in my chest, and I could feel the adrenaline pulsing in my veins.
A soft scraping noise from the hallway made my heart leap into my throat. Then came the sound of the door handle creaking under pressure. I tensed, stepping in front of Ashley, finger on the trigger, waiting for the inevitable.
The door swung open with a loud creak, pinning us behind it. Ashley’s fingers dug deep into my wrist, hard enough to leave marks. My only thought was praying she wouldn’t scream. Through the tiny crack between the door and the jamb, I caught a glimpse of a wide-shouldered silhouette—Ryan. He stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, scanning the dark room.
Then, he moved forward, two slow steps, his boots loud on the floor.
I was on edge, every muscle in my body tight, ready to spring. He crossed the room toward the window. His next move would be to look behind the door, and when that happened, it would be down to who was quicker on the draw. I wasn’t going to risk that. He had the upper hand, and I knew it.
I yanked my wrist free from Ashley's grip and slid out from behind the door. I couldn't afford to wait any longer.
Ryan had just opened the window, leaning out to peer into the dark night. My heart hammered as I lunged toward him, desperate to catch him off guard.
He jerked back, startled, turning just as I reached him. I swung my gun by the barrel, aiming for his head. The blow glanced off, the butt of the gun scraping down the side of his face. He staggered, dazed, his own weapon falling from his hand.
But he wasn’t done. In an instant, his massive arms were around me, crushing me with a force that could have belonged to a gorilla. I pushed back with everything I had, but it was like shoving a wall of solid steel. He was shorter than me, but he used it to his advantage, driving his head into my jaw with the force of a sledgehammer.
The impact was like getting hit with a rock. My knees wobbled, my vision blurred. He tried again, but this time, I dodged, managing to hook my heel behind his leg. I heaved forward, sending us both crashing to the floor. The sound was deafening, rattling the very bones of the cabin.
Luck was on my side. I landed on top of him. The jolt shook his grip loose, and I scrambled to my feet. Before I could grab my gun, a fist came out of the shadows, slamming into my bicep with the force of a battering ram. The blow knocked me down again.
Grunting, Ryan came at me, relentless. I lashed out with my foot, driving it hard into his chest. He flew backward like a sack of bricks, crashing against the wall.
I didn’t wait. I grabbed a nearby chair and swung it at him as he struggled to get up. The chair splintered over his head. He fell, then somehow got to his knees again, lunging forward like an unstoppable machine. Before I could react, he swept my legs out from under me, and I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me.
He was on top of me again before I could catch my breath. I shoved my hand into his face, desperately holding him back, but he slammed a fist into the side of my neck. Pain exploded through my body. I kicked out, catching him square in the chest again, sending him rolling onto his back. But Ryan was a beast. Nothing seemed to slow him down.
As he struggled to his feet, my hand closed around the leg of the bedside table. His silhouette was outlined perfectly against the window—a perfect target. I swung the table leg with all my might, connecting with the top of his head. The table shattered into pieces, and Ryan dropped to the floor.
This time, he stayed down.
Panting, I bent over him, rolling him onto his back to make sure he wasn’t playing possum. He was out cold. I felt like I’d been run over by a freight train.
I looked around the room, expecting to see Ashley. But she wasn’t there.
"Ashley!" I shouted, panic rising in my chest. No answer.
I stumbled to the light switch, flicking it on. The room was empty.
I
ran into the hallway, shouting her name, but all I could hear was the wail of
an approaching police siren.
END OF EPISODE 36
P.S.
Stay tuned for Episode 37, which will be published here next Sunday.
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