Caleb scratched at the implant in his temple. Lyssa had promised it was the easiest way to steal the car but he wasn’t so sure. The transmitter wired his brain directly to the vehicle. It would be like another limb, as long as the connection held. “A bigger rush than driving” she’d said with that same lopsided smile that had convinced him to throw in with Lyssa Nguyen and her gang in the first place.
“The hardest part of the job is waiting.” he heard the scratchy growl of his father’s voice in his head. Suddenly he was thirteen again, white knuckling the wheel. His feet just barely reaching the pedals as his father tried to keep Benny’s guts from leaking all over the backseat.
Caleb closed his eyes, and let the rumble of the motor chase away the feelings. He felt the vibration in his bones and smiled. A quick diagnostic check sent an extra surge of electrical current skittering across his brain. The car was as perfect as it had been the day Damien Hellridge stole it off the assembly line. Gunshots tore into the concrete around him. He hit the gas, and the car shot forward like a bullet.
“Once you’re in it, you’re fine” the memory of his father’s voice came as clearly as if he was riding shotgun. “Adrenaline takes over. Be the guy who can keep his cool and you’ll always get your share of the money.”
He knew his dad wouldn’t know what to make of his only son running with a gang like this. Henry Browner’s boy was better than this mixed bag of petty thieves and psychopaths. Caleb had a pretty good idea which one Lyssa was; he just wasn’t sure he cared anymore.
As the car skidded around the corner, the squeal of tires on hot pavement mixed with the screams of the Hellridge alarms filled the air around him. Caleb didn’t know when he’d ever felt so alive. He hit the straightaway on Lawrence Street with the pedal to the floor, and for a moment got so caught up in the feeling of gliding over the broken road that he forgot to breathe.
The plan itself was surprisingly simple. Lyssa’s schemes normally involved weeks of planning and intricate maneuvering by everyone involved to pull off. This time, all he had to do was get to the Exchange in time to pick up the rest of the crew after they finished robbing the joint.
There was a shriek of metal on metal as a Hellridge car slammed into him. Wincing in pain, Caleb veered into a narrow alley, sending sparks flying as the sides of the car scraped against the walls. Pain crackled up his side, but he forced the car forward towards the next street.
Two more Hellridge cars were on him as soon as he left the alley, forcing him down a side road that led away from the Exchange and the rest of the gang. There was a slight tickle in his left ear, followed by a loud screech of feedback.
“Whatever dumb son of a bitch stole my car, I want you to know that I am going to find you,” Damien Hellridge’s broken bottle voice echoed across the radio waves. “I will scalp you, and whatever family you have. Everyone you love is going to die painfully. Nobody fucks with a Hellridge.”
Caleb’s ribs popped as the Hellridges boxed him in from either side. He slammed on the brakes, causing the cars to collide in front of him. For a moment they drifted back apart from the impact. He hit the accelerator and shot forward through the gap. Behind him, the Hellridges crashed into each other again, sending glass and metal shooting across the road.
He let out a long sigh of relief as the wreckage faded into the background. Another car shot up behind him, lights flashing. The radio chatter exploded. Three more joined the chase before Caleb could blink. He was so focused on the police that he missed the Hellridge car moving up to cut him off. There was a loud tooth-rattling crunch as the car collided with his left fender. Then darkness.
Caleb sat in his chair staring at the dark room around him, trying to ignore the headache that was splitting his skull. “I told her to put the transmitter inside the fucking car,” he muttered, pulling over his computer. It was a lot riskier getting the damn thing inside the vehicle, but it also kept the transmitter from getting knocked off-line. Lyssa hadn’t listened to him the first dozen times, so he wasn’t sure why he was surprised that she’d ignored him this time, too.
His fingers flew over the keys. The car was dead without the transmitter. He’d have to reboot the connection before the anyone traced the signal back to the base. The cops and Hellridges were likely shooting it out over who had rights to the car. It wouldn’t be long before whoever came out on top searched the car, and came gunning for the person at the other end of the line.
He was finally able to find a weak signal from the transmitter. With a grimace, he pressed against his temple and forced the transmitter to reboot. The computer fell to the floor as the car roared to life around him. It lurched forward, sending the Hellridges that had been climbing around the outside sliding to the ground.
The car had spun around from the impact. Caleb found himself staring down a mob of Hellridges and police cars. He weaved between two cop cars, smiling as they stared at the empty vehicle. A Hellridge truck flew past and slammed into the cops as they tried to turn around. Sliding to the right around another Hellridge car, Caleb the familiar rush of adrenaline. This is what he was born to do.
He dodged another couple of police cars and shot off over the hill towards the Exchange. He cleared the top of the hill with a shout of joy, the car lifting briefly off the ground. Down on the street below, Damien Hellridge stared up at him, ten feet of boils, hair and bad teeth squeezed into a five foot frame. Behind him, the gang had built a wall of wrecked cars and garbage across the road, blocking off the only route to the Exchange.
Caleb slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt halfway down the hill. He threw the car into reverse and tried to think of another way around the barricade. At the top of the hill, he watched the police close in on him. Flashing lights bounced off the walls of the buildings as they sped up the hill towards him. The Hellridges followed not far behind.
“Fuck it,” he said with a smile. He waited until the first car crested the hill, then hit the gas. The police followed him over the top and he slammed the brakes, watching them shoot past him and into the wall. The armored vehicles plowed through it, sending Hellridges and pieces of machinery flying through the air.
Before the police or the Hellridges could recover, Caleb drove through the hole they’d opened in the barrier, darting through the debris and sliding to a stop right in front of the Exchange as Lyssa and her boys came running full tilt towards the vehicle. They piled in and he sped away, leaving the witnesses to see Damien Hellridge’s personal vehicle leaving the scene of a robbery.
Caleb smiled to himself as Lyssa climbed behind the wheel and disconnected the transmitter. The pressure in his head immediately stopped and he leaned back in his chair, trying to catch his breath. All that he had to do now was wait for the others to get back.
“The hardest part of the job is waiting,” he whispered to himself with a smile.
©2016 Chris Page. All rights reserved.