Page 73 of Not This Way

The driver was already closing the door for the lawyer. He was moving fast.

“Damn it!” she hissed, pushing away from the window. Her worn-in boots pounded against the floor as she sprinted toward the exit.

She stepped out under the rain-streaked sky, hurrying down the steps. Droplets struck her skin like cold pebbles. She blinked away the water, taking the steps outside the precinct two at a time.

“Hey!” she shouted as she closed in on the car, heart hammering wildly in her chest. “Get out of the car! Now!”

But the driver didn’t seem to hear her. Or maybe he did, and chose to ignore her warning. His brake lights were on, but the engine was grumbling. And suddenly, the car began to move, turning out of the parking lot.

Rachel sprinted toward her own waiting car, remote starting the engine.

She flung herself into the front seat and began to follow the fleeing vehicle.

But it moved slowly. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her…

No… no, he seemed not to have noticed her.

She frowned, keeping to the road as raindrops picked up, pouring in sheets from the sky.

The rain came down in heavy bursts, a relentless torrent that seemed to swallow the world whole. Each droplet struck the windshield like a bullet, and the wipers fought valiantly against them, but the darkness was nearly impenetrable. The narrow road twisted and turned, flanked by dense ravines on either side, which cast eerie shadows that danced across the asphalt as lightning tore through the sky.

Rachel gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her heart thundered in her chest almost as loudly as the storm outside. She squinted through the downpour, straining to keep the car ahead in her sights. It was him; she was sure of it. If she lost him now, there might never be another chance.

As the car in front of her sped up, Rachel pressed harder on the accelerator. She could feel the engine’s growl reverberate through her entire body, a living, breathing thing with an insatiable hunger for speed. The distance between them closed, but she knew better than to get too close. Instead, she weaved in and out of the few other cars on the road, using them as cover to maintain a safe distance.

Thomas would be proud, Rachel thought, recalling the countless late-night training sessions with her mentor, Thomas Greywolf. He had taught her everything he knew about evasive maneuvers, pursuit tactics, and the subtle art of remaining unseen even when you were right under someone’s nose.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the road ahead, and Rachel’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the car swerve dangerously close to the edge. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. With a deep breath, she pushed the pedal further, her pulse racing in time with the engine.

“Come on,” she urged herself, “you’ve got this.”

As the distance between them shrank, Rachel could feel her resolve hardening like steel.

As Rachel closed the gap between her and the suspect’s car, the rain continued to fall in heavy sheets, creating a symphony of droplets against the windshield. The wipers struggled to keep up with the onslaught, but she remained undeterred as she focused on the vehicle ahead.

Through the blurry curtain of water, she could finally make out the details of the license plate: New Mexico—Land of Enchantment. Not a Texas plate. Strange. The numbers were partially obscured by mud, but she managed to discern the last four digits, “7H23.”

“Got you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain and the engine.

As the suspect’s car swerved around a bend, Rachel noticed something that sent a chill down her spine.

With each passing mile, Rachel’s determination grew stronger. The rain continued to pour, and she fought to maintain control of her vehicle as it hydroplaned across the slick asphalt, but she refused to falter. Her thoughts raced with a mixture of strategy and resolve, as she envisioned finally confronting the killer face-to-face. The enormity of the task before her loomed like a specter in the darkness, but she knew that she was ready.

The night sky roared with fury as lightning split the darkness, casting jagged bolts across the horizon. The thunder that followed shook Rachel to her core, a deep rumble reverberating through her bones. Blinding flashes illuminated the torrential rain, turning the world into a chaotic symphony of light and sound.

“Damn it,” Rachel muttered under her breath, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The suspect’s taillights flickered in and out of view, a sinister red glow in the blackness. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She couldn’t lose him now, not after everything she’d risked.

Another brilliant flash of lightning seared across the sky, momentarily blinding her. Rachel blinked away the afterimage, squinting in an attempt to regain her focus on the road. In that instant, her car hit a deep puddle, sending her into a sudden, heart-stopping spin.

“Shit!” she cried out as her hands fought for control of the wheel. The world outside her window blurred into a dizzying whirlwind of darkness and rain. Panic clawed at her insides, threatening to consume her entirely. “You can regain control!”

Rachel gritted her teeth, forcing herself to ease off the accelerator, and turned the wheel, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought against the terrifying loss of control. Inch by agonizing inch, her car began to straighten, her tires finally gripping the slick road once more.

With her car back under control, Rachel’s eyes darted frantically from side to side, searching for any sign of the vehicle she’d been pursuing. The rain had only intensified, making visibility nearly impossible. Her heart raced in her chest and doubt began to creep into her mind.

“Where are you?” she muttered under her breath, her grip tightening on the wheel. “I can’t lose you now.”

As Rachel pressed onward, a faint light flickered in the distance. Squinting through the blur of rainwater streaming down her windshield, she could barely make out the neon sign of a run-down diner tucked away off the main road. The building was small and weather-beaten, with peeling paint and an air of abandonment. Faded letters adorning the roof spelled out “Marty’s Diner,” the name barely visible through the storm.

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