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We got Lucky

Blake Gerard
%22Road Trip%22.png

"Road Trip"

Lauryn Ginter

Three shots buried themselves in the back of my truck.


“Holy s**t Joey, go!”


I pressed the accelerator down as hard as I could. The needle on the speedometer crawled to the right; it hit sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, and then settled at one-hundred. Gravel spewed out behind us, assaulting the pursuing car with rocks and dirt. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Two men wearing sunglasses and brimmed hats toting police-grade firearms stared back at me.

“Do you think that’s them behind us?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t care much to find out,” I replied.

I battled with the wheel, trying to keep us on the road. The emotionless voice on the radio continued droning about two men who had performed three drive-by shootings in the last six hours. I threw the wheel to the right, skidding and sliding onto the highway. A car swerved to avoid us and spun out, crashing headfirst into a light pole. The front of the car crunched in on the driver like an accordion, killing him instantly. I quickly realigned my car and pushed the pedal to the floor. The engine screamed as we accelerated down the highway, switching lanes and narrowly avoiding crashes. The brown vehicle continued to pursue, occasionally firing at us.  


“Will these guys ever quit? I mean, they already killed somebody, and we’re next!”


“Adam, would you just shut the hell up and let me think?” I responded.


The radio continued the news coverage of the gunmen: “The gunmen have just entered the highway. Police are in pursuit now. We urge anybody heading West on Highway 45 to take the nearest exit. The suspects are armed and extremely dangerous.”


The red and blue lights flashed behind the car that had been chasing us for the last ten minutes. The speedometer needle struggled forward, hitting 120 miles per hour. The car behind us kept the gap small, no more than fifty feet.

“Take the exit!” Adam yelled.


I slammed on the brakes and whipped the wheel to the right. I turned off my lights, hoping the pursuing car would lose us in the scuffle. It worked, and they sped on along the highway, with the rest of the police behind them.

“Wow. That was a close one.”


I didn’t respond. We had to lay low for a few days. The police should’ve caught us, but we got lucky.

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