Sorry I was so slow, everybody. I’ve been playing with my family all day.
For those of you who haven’t read any of the Journey Of St. Laurent before: You are now reading an online serial pulp novel. If you didn’t start at the beginning, you may want to do so. Chapter 1:Â Down By The Bay. This serial is the sequel to my first novel, Oasis.
Thanks to Toothy, for reading and commenting on pretty much all the fiction on the site. Great to have you around.
To any others who read but never comment or anythingâ€¦ thanks for reading.
To everybody â€“ I hope you enjoy the chapter. I always appreciate comments and typo corrections.
Chapter 17 â€“ The Getaway
Getting knocked out is usually an unpleasant experience. However, the getting knocked out is virtually always better than the coming to after you’ve been knocked out.
This time was no exception.
My empty stomach lurched and threatened to heave up a load of bile. My head throbbed. My arms and legs shook. The black spots in my vision started to part and fade.
I reached up and felt a bump swelling on my forehead. I wonder how long I was out. It couldn’t have been long. There are still no cops in here. The sun still looks pretty high. In fact, I was pretty sure it hadn’t been more than a few seconds, maybe a minute.
I leaned forward and tried to stand.
It was a little too much too fast. The little black splotches danced again at the edge of my vision. The nausea pushed up all the harder and my knees threatened to buckle.
I stuck out my hand and grabbed onto the desk.
It felt good to hold on to something stable.
I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths.
Within a few moments, my legs had settled enough to hold my weight. The headache backed off, and soon I felt like I could stay upright under my own power.
I pushed open the back door and walked out into the sun.
I scanned the parking lot. There was no van, and no Samir to be seen. At least the Jeep was still there.
London stood up from the passenger seat and leaned forward against the windshield. She was still holding the rifle, and looked somewhat relieved to see me. “Hey Corbin! What happened?”
“After the first group came out, where did the other guy go?”
She pointed. “He went into that little trailer and then into that fenced parking lot.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe a minute. But, wait. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Here, start the Jeep.” I flipped her the keys.
I jogged toward the fenced area. This has to be the impound lot.
I still had a headache, and a bump on the noggin, but the other effects of being knocked out were wearing off. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, I don’t know. Maybe my body knew that I had come too far to fail so close to my goal.
The lot had a gate like you’d see in any old pay parking lot, with a second big fence gate that could slide into place when the lot was closed. As I walked past the gate I could see most of the lot. There were a total of maybe fifteen vehicles, all parked with no apparent organization.
The first thing in the lot that caught my eye was the open trunk of a car three stalls down. The next thing was movement several rows over.
It was Samir. He was standing outside of a tricked out lime green Honda and leaning in. The front seat of the little two door car was pushed forward.
He’s putting something in the back. I wonder if it’s-
I didn’t even stop to think and ran toward him. “Hey!”
Samir’s head snapped out of the car. He caught a glance of me, threw the front seat into position and dove in.
I could tell I probably wasn’t going to be fast enough, but I sprinted just the same. I couldn’t let him get away. Not with what he’d done. Not with him having what I suspected he had in the back of his car.
His car growled to life and lurched forward.
I was so close.
Samir cranked the wheel and punched the gas. Hot tires squealed on the pavement.
And then I caught up. Sort of. For all the good it did me.
“Stop!” I was able to pound on the spoiler once before the little car accelerated out of my range.
My second swing missed entirely, and it threw me way off balance.
The green Honda made a horrible grinding noise and lurched.
He doesn’t know how to drive a stick?
Samir turned the corner and headed for the gate.
I turned and ran after him.
Samir crashed the green car through the gate.
I still ran. Maybe he’ll stall itâ€¦
The green car turned out of my field of vision. I could hear it speeding down the street.
My heart sank. I kept running anyway.
Something made a screeching, skidding noise.
I cleared the broken gate to the impound lot and looked around.
London was driving up from the left. Samir had turned right, which was a bad idea, as the little street that ran between the jail, impound lot, and whatever else these buildings were was a dead end.
Apparently the screeching had been Samir’s doing when he noticed it was the end of the street. Now he was negotiating reverse.
London pulled up in front of me.
Samir was having a time completing a three point turn.
“Move over, I’m driving.”
London shot me a look that said, “Are you insane?” But she pulled up the brake, put it in neutral, and moved over anyway.
I jumped in.
Samir accelerated back our way.
I hit the brake release. “Buckle up.”
Michael leaned forward. “Where are we going?”
London hit my arm. “What is going on?”
The little green Honda screamed by.
I threw the Jeep into gear and cranked the wheel. “Buckle up.”
We bumped the curb as I went around.
I am not losing him.
“Corbin, what is going on?”
I hit the gas. “We’re chasing him.”
Samir disappeared around a corner.
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, clearly. But still-”
“He’s got something I need.”
I took the corner a little fast. I couldn’t be sure, but it felt we were on two wheels for a moment.
Up ahead, I could see the low riding green car skidding on another turn.
“Why didn’t you get it from him, oh, I don’t know, when he was still in jail?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
How am I going to catch him?
The good news is that we were entering a suburban area, with lots of winding roads. That meant he couldn’t really get up to speed.
“Corbin, why are we-”
“Look, I was in Oasis before everything went down, and I happen to know he was one of the terrorists.”
Her face paled. “Really?”
Up ahead the green Honda scraped bottom on a speed bump.
“Yes, and I’m not letting him get away.”
Chapter 18 is here. Keep reading!