Brett Battles - Little Girl Gone

Logan remained motionless as she lugged her bags toward the front door. As soon as she passed his position, he moved silently in behind her, then reached out and grabbed a loop on her backpack, and gave it a tug.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

She swallowed a scream as she whipped around, nearly losing her balance in the process. Logan held tight to the loop of her backpack, so as she’d turned, the bag slipped from her shoulder and off her arm, until he was the only one holding it.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she asked.

“Just wondering where you were going,” he said.

She took a hard look at him, then her eyes widened. “You’re that guy from last night. Logan Hooper.”

“Close enough.” He glanced at her suitcase. “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“I am.” She tried to grab her backpack from him, but he swung it out of her reached. “Give it to me. It’s mine.”

“You and I need to have a talk.”

“I need to get out of here. Give it back!”

“Talk first.”

“I don’t have time to talk with you.”

“And why would that be?” he asked.

She looked at the backpack, then said, “Keep it.” She picked up her suitcase and headed toward the door. But Logan got there first, and put a hand against it before she could pull it open.

“Please, let me go!”

“Once we talk, you can go anywhere you want.”

“No! Please! If I stay here I’m dead!”

For a half a second, he was struck silent. Not by her words, but by the utter fear behind them.

“All right. Then we’ll go somewhere else,” he said.

“Fine,” she said quickly. “Just, please, let’s go.”

He moved his hand, and let her open the door. Once they reached the ground level, she turned toward the back of the small complex, presumably heading for the tenant parking area.

“No,” he said, then motioned in the direction of the street where his El Camino was waiting. “This way.”

“Hell, no! You’re crazy if you think I’m going to come back later to get my car. I’m taking it now.”

They locked eyes for a moment. “All right,” he said. “But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you drive on your own. We’ll go together, then you’re going to have to drop me off close to here when we’re done so I can get my car.”

“Whatever. No problem.”

Logan knew she had no intention on dropping him off anywhere near this area. In fact, he was sure she planned on getting into her car, and leaving before he had a chance to join her.

He let her lead them down a windy stone path to the pack parking area. Most of the dozen or so spaces were full. Angie headed toward a blue Mini Cooper near the left end.

“I’m going to have to pull out first,” she said. “The jerk in the slot next to me always parks too close.”

As they got closer Logan could see that she was right, but he had no illusions she would actually stop to let him in. He was about to tell her they would both get in on the driver’s side when a man stepped from the shadows, a gun in his hand.

“No one’s going anywhere,” the man said.

Angie reflexively brought the suitcase in front of her like a shield, but unless the clothes inside were made of Kevlar, her luggage wasn’t going to do her much good.

The man walked steadily toward her, moving his gaze back and forth steadily between Angie and Logan. It was Tooney in the refrigerator at Coffee Time all over again. Logan knew instantly this man was only here for one purpose, to deliver the death Angie had been trying to avoid.

Logan had only one shot at this, and he knew it. He watched the man’s eyes, and the moment they flicked from him back to Angie, Logan drew his arm back a few inches, then swung it forward, letting Angie’s backpack fly from his hand on a low trajectory, straight at the man’s knees.

Immediately, he followed.

The motion of the bag caught the gunman’s attention. He turned, then twisted to the side to get out of the way. The bag missed him, but Logan didn’t.

He slammed into the man’s shoulder and pushed him face first into Angie’s Mini. He wrenched the gun away, then landed two quick blows to the guy’s kidneys. The man rolled onto his back, and threw a punch that grazed Logan’s chin.

Logan didn’t want to waste any more time, so he kneed him in the groin, and shoved him to the ground.

The man writhed in pain, and wasn’t getting up any time soon.

When teaching self-defense techniques, Carl had always said, “Hit ’em fast, and hit ’em hard. Don’t ever give them a chance.”

Check. Check. And check.

Logan turned, intending to grab Angie and get the hell out there. But while her suitcase was sitting in the middle of the pavement, she was gone.

18

Logan scooped up the man’s gun, then headed straight for the street knowing there was little chance Angie had returned to her apartment. When he reached the sidewalk, he spotted her two buildings down, running away. Instead of chasing her on foot, he ran over to his El Camino and jumped in. By the time he pulled level with her, her pace had begun to slow.

As he rolled down his window he yelled, “Get in!”

She looked over, but didn’t stop.

“How far do you think you’ll get like that? Just get in the car!”

A squeal of tires echoed down the street from somewhere behind them. Logan looked back. A car had just sped out of Angie’s apartment complex driveway, and was now heading straight for them.

“Angie, now!” he yelled.

She didn’t need any further prompting. Logan slowed but didn’t stop as she raced around the back of the car, and opened the passenger door.

“Come on! Come on!” he yelled, his gaze firmly affixed on the rapidly approaching car in his mirror.

The moment her butt touched the seat, he hit the gas, but even as fast as they were accelerating, it wasn’t enough. Seconds after Angie had closed the door, they lurched forward with a loud, metallic crunch as the other car rammed into them.

Logan looked in the mirror again. One of the sedan’s headlights had been knocked out in the collision, but he doubted the man sitting behind the wheel cared. The guy looked like all he wanted to do was finish the job he’d started, and throw Logan in as a bonus.

Logan glanced at Angie. “Hold on! We’re going to make a quick turn.”

If she acknowledged him, he didn’t hear it.

He kept their speed up until the very last second, then backed off the gas, and turned the wheel. As he’d hoped, the guy behind them hadn’t anticipated the move, and was forced to rapidly decelerate.

They ended up with about a half block gap between them, which was a hell of a lot better than the half dozen feet they’d had before. Logan’s initial strategy was to lose the other car in the maze of the less-populated, residential streets, but while the tactic had kept the sedan from gaining on them, they weren’t shaking him, either.

Ahead, Logan saw a busy, six-lane boulevard, and decided to try something different. His timing was perfect as he reached the intersection, and was greeted with a space just large enough for the El Camino to make a right turn without stopping.

The sedan following them wasn’t so lucky. It had to wait for several cars to pass before it could turn onto the road behind them.

At the next intersection, the countdown clock on the crosswalk sign was almost at zero. Logan weaved into the fast lane, then pressed the accelerator to the floor again, and shot through the intersection as the traffic light went yellow.

He looked in the mirror, expecting to see that the sedan had been left behind. But instead of getting stuck at the light, the sedan pulled out into the oncoming lanes, and hit the intersection moments after the light turned red. Horns blared, and brakes screeched, but their pursuer didn’t stop.

Logan swore under him breath, then scanned ahead. A half block up was a sign that read: 405 FREEWAY.  Below the words were arrows, one for southbound traffic and one for north.

Logan kept out of either lane until the last second, then shot across the traffic, and onto the 405 northbound onramp. The road dropped quickly toward the freeway. They got all the way to the bottom of the ramp before the now familiar single headlight car entered at the top.

The 405 freeway had always been one of the busiest in Los Angeles, and that evening was no exception. Though technically rush hour was over and everyone was going close to the speed limit, there were cars everywhere.

Logan moved from the slow lane to the next lane and then the next, dropping into gaps in the traffic the moment he spotted them. Soon they were approaching the junction with the I-10 freeway. Logan knew if he could get over to the transition without the guy tailing them realizing it, they could head east, putting their pursuer behind them for good. He eased the El Camino to the right, stopping just short of the transition lanes, then looked in his mirror to see if he could spot the other car.

“Watch out!” Angie screamed.

Logan’s gaze quickly shifted from the mirror to the road. The cars ahead of them had suddenly slowed to a crawl. He hit the brakes, then whipped the El Camino into a hole that opened up in the lane to their right just a few seconds before they would have smacked into the car that had been in front of them.

He glanced at Angie. “You all right?”

The nod she gave him said, “Yes,” but the look on her face said, “Hell no!”

The transition lane they were now in was moving better than the others. Apparently, whatever was causing the traffic jam was not on the 10 freeway.

Logan moved over to the far right lane, so that they’d end up going east, then checked to see if they’d lost the other car.

For a second he stared into his mirror in disbelief.

Talk about persistent. The one-eyed car was driving on the shoulder between the right lane and the freeway sound wall, and would reach them before they got to the new freeway. Having no choice, Logan swung his car to the shoulder, too.

“What are you doing?” Angie asked.

He nodded toward the back window, and let her figure it out herself.

The drivers in the cars they were passing didn’t look particularly happy that Logan had created his own lane. A couple of them honked, then one jerk pulled his car partially onto the shoulder in an attempt to block their way. His act of protest was ill timed, though. The sound wall that had butted up against the edge of the shoulder ended a few seconds after he crossed over, and was replaced by a landscaped slope. Logan didn’t even slow down as he veered the El Camino onto the hill, and went around the blocking car.

As the road curved to the right, the speed of the traffic began to pick up, and Logan slipped back into the regular lane. A few moments later they were on the 10.

Their pursuer was at least a dozen cars behind them now, but he was still there. Logan knew if he didn’t do something drastic, the other car was going to stick to them until they ran out of gas.

He slowed, bringing the El Camino in line speed-wise with the surrounding traffic. A quick glance back confirmed that the sedan was now gaining on them. Logan then moved to the right, until he was one lane from the slow lane.

Angie looked at him, then out the back window, then back at him again. “What are you doing? He’s going to catch us.”

Logan kept his concentration on the road, and said nothing.

“Hey! Mr. Hooper! You trying to get us killed?”

“Not planning on it,” he replied.

“Then get a move on it. He’s right back there!”

He could see her point at the sedan.

“Do it again,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Point at him. Make him think we’re worried.”

“I am worried!”

“Fine, just make sure he sees that.”

“Why?”

About a half mile ahead, Logan saw that the freeway curved to the left. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. He slowed some more, dropping below the average speed.

“Are you crazy?” Angie screamed. “He’s just a couple cars back now!”

Logan moved into the slow lane.

“Dude! What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s right there! Coming up on your side! Ah, Christ. I should have kept running.”

Logan looked into the side mirror, and could see the sedan tailgating the car in front of him, flashing his lights so that the guy would speed up or clear out of the way. Since the El Camino was to the right of the slower car, the man was forced to move to his left.

Now, with the lane ahead of him clear, the sedan jumped forward, coming up beside them, and matching their speed. Logan waited until they were almost to the curve, then snapped the wheel quickly to the left, and immediately back to the right, making it look for a moment like he was going to sideswipe the sedan.

Out of reflex, the guy chasing them jerked his car away to keep from being hit. Logan figured he would do that. Survival instinct. But all that really mattered was whether he’d planted the seed or not.

Do it, buddy. You know you want to.

They were a third of the way through the curve.

Any time now would be good.

Another few seconds passed. Then the sedan jerked toward them.

Immediately, Logan hit the brakes.

Beside him, Angie closed her eyes tight, bracing for impact. But she needn’t have bothered. The back end of the sedan passed within inches of their front bumper, but shot by without the two cars touching.

As Logan had hoped, the other guy’s momentum carried him all the way through the lane, over the shoulder and halfway onto the barren dirt beyond.

The moment the guy started to bring his sedan back onto the freeway, Logan sped up just enough to tap the front corner of his El Camino against the back corner of the sedan. As soon as they were touching, he jammed the pedal all the way down, and turned the wheel to the left.

The push caused the sedan to swing out perpendicular to the freeway. Logan pulled around him and raced away, watching in his rearview mirror as the sedan spun over the shoulder, and down a slope behind some office buildings.

He didn’t know what happened to the car after that. The only thing that mattered to him was that the guy wouldn’t be following them anymore.

19

Taking the first exit, Logan circled around and got back onto the freeway, heading west.

“Jesus. You’re insane, aren’t you?” Angie finally said once they were cruising down the freeway. She let out a half laugh, like she was just joking, but he knew she wasn’t. “You’re going to take me back to my car now, right?”

He didn’t say anything.

When they reached the 405, he went north.

“Hey, it’s the other way,” she said.

He remained silent.

“I’m serious. I need to get my car and get out of here.” When he still didn’t respond, she said, “Are you even listening to me? Turn this damn thing around, and take me to my car!”