Page 73 of No Vow Broken

“What?” Lexi exclaimed, straightening in the driver’s seat.

“Start the car,” I shouted at her, slamming down the tailgate, trapping Elvis and Xavier inside. “Now, now, now.”

To her credit, Lexi immediately revved the engine just as Tito dove headfirst into the back seat and I hopped into the front passenger seat. “Drive!” I yelled, pulling the door shut.

Churning gravel, we headed out of the small lot and onto the only road. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Anywhere. The drone is attacking.”

“Attacking us?”

She floored it while I tracked the drone out the window, watching with relief and dread as it swung away from the church and came after the car.

“Yes, us. Apparently we’re the target.”

“Can we outrun a drone in a car?” Lexi asked as she shot over a bump and my head hit the ceiling.

“We’re about to find out.”

I glanced over my shoulder to the back seat. Xavier was trying to crawl into the back seat from the tailgate area and having a hard time of it. I couldn’t see Elvis, but I heard multiple curses as he was bounced around in the back.

It was hard to keep track of the small drone from the narrow vantage of the car windows. My limited field of view and the sudden bumps as Lexi accelerated were making it difficult. I heard more shots and looked to see where the agent was firing. Apparently, the drone was behind us and to the right side of the car. I finally caught sight of the drone as it climbed, chasing us down the road.

“How fast does it fly?” Lexi asked.

“Depends on the model, its weight, battery charge, payload, temperature, pressure altitude, and whether or not it is in level flight,” Xavier explained from the back seat. “And then we would have to—”

“Just tell me how fast I have to drive,” Lexi said tersely. “You can tell me the rest later…if we survive.”

“Fair enough.” Xavier studied the drone out the window. “Judging by its size, those models can typically fly forty-five to sixty miles per hour. Given that it’s probably also carrying extra weight from what looks like explosives—not to alarm anyone—I’d predict a top speed of about forty-five miles per hour.”

“Thank you,” she said as she slowed at a sharp corner, then gunned the engine once we were around it. Tito cursed as we blew through the police barricade. They made way for us, clearly having been alerted by the Secret Service, because they started shooting at the drone, too, trying to help us.

Unfortunately, the drone didn’t let up in its pursuit of us.

“How far can it fly?” asked Tito.

“The best commercial drones can fly somewhere between four and six miles and stay aloft thirty to thirty-five minutes,” Elvis offered from the back.

I calculated how long this one had been airborne from the first time that we saw it, estimating it had consumed well more than half its charge, probably more if we continued to force it to chase us at high speed. We just needed to stay ahead of it. The problem was that though we were faster, we had to follow a winding rural road, while the drone could soar on a straighter path.

As we reached one long curve, the drone anticipated our progress and began a descending approach. “It’s getting closer,” I said.

“Tell me something I don’t know, like how to avoid it,” Lexi snapped. “And quit eyeing the steering wheel. If you grab it while I’m driving, you’re sleeping on the couch for the next six months.”

“Ouch,” Tito said.

“Just tell me where the drone is, okay?” Lexi said between gritted teeth.

“Right side, descending quickly,” I answered. “I think it’s planning to cut us off on the upcoming curve.”

“We’ll just have to throw off its aim,” she said staring determinedly at the road. “Now, that drone is going to see somerealdriving.”

I had exactly zero time to request further explanation before Lexi floored it. Basia and Xavier had obviously gone for the options package with the larger engine, because the SUV ramped up to speed fast. In fact, Lexi didn’t let up as we raced toward the intercept point with the drone.

“Still hot on our trail,” Xavier said from the back seat. “It’s really out to get us.”

“It’s banking, trying to adjust,” Elvis warned.

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