Eddington Caffeine and Bullets

Caffeine and bullets are both good motivations for running. I prefer the former to the latter, but the woman with the bullets didn’t ask me. Neither did her driver, but I was just glad I had my keys.

I barreled into the car, turned it over, and hit the gas. I grabbed my seatbelt with one hand while attempting to steer out of the path of ammunition with the other. My assailant, a fifty some year old lady, that was probably someone’s grandmother.

I would never see her that way. To me she would always be the assassin. It’s melodramatic, but things like that go through your mind when your arm is bleeding. I was getting tired of mess, and was ready to end it.

I called Joe, praying he was at work, and could rain down a storm of officers on the crazy person behind me. I got his voicemail, the day wasn’t going as planned. Neither would the night, but I wouldn’t know that til later.  

Right now, I was being chased by people I didn’t know, and didn’t care to know. All that was obvious was, car chases end, and usually badly for the vehicle in front. That gave me a thought, in retrospect, it was stupid, but all that I had.

I swung wide, turned the car around, ducking all the time. As fast as I could, I drove towards them. That was when I saw fear, not in her eyes, they were cold. Her driver wasn’t as tough, he blinked, and he was controlling the car.

The guy swerved just enough for me to get by, and I drove to the nearest police station. Who knew what I would have done if they had pulled in, fired, and left. Thankfully they didn’t, and while bleeding and pulling my nerves together, Joe called back.