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SHE’D LEARNED TO DRIVE in bad weather while living in Chicago and South Bend. September hated ice and snow, but thankfully muscle memory quickly returned. She gritted her teeth and prayed for no traffic as she blew through one stop sign after another in the residential area.
The car behind her bumped and then hit her harder. She nearly slid off the narrow street. Fewer stop signs appeared and she pressed harder on the gas, speeding up in tiny increments to stay in control of Angela’s car.
Her attacker smashed into the rear of the car again. He grew bolder with fewer houses and witnesses. She managed to hold the car steady down the center of the street, but the next bump could spin her out of control. She had to head back to town proper, get to a more well-trafficked area.
Keeping one eye on the mirror, September took her foot off the gas, turned the wheel, and barely managed to hold the road. The SUV behind her overshot the turn, and took time to stop and reverse. September drove carefully, shoulders hunched, brow furrowed at the odd noises the car made from its crunched front and rear ends. She made another turn, heading back into the business section of South Bend and away from residential neighborhoods. She switched off her lights. They didn’t help much in the driving snow, and only shined a beacon for Mr. Bleak to follow. If Angela’s car stalled, she’d have to grab Macy and make a run for safety.
More lights ahead announced a larger intersection. But before she made it halfway down the street, the SUV appeared from a side street. He hit her broadside.
Macy screamed. His claws dug into September’s shoulders to keep his perch. September’s teeth clacked so hard she bit her tongue and grimaced at the salty blood flavor. Her temple smacked the driver’s side window.
His engine growled. He bulldozed her car across the pavement and smacked it into a utility pole.
Macy clambered off of the headrest and head-butted her neck so hard, September thought she’d bruise. When the SUV backed away, then sat waiting an endless moment, she knew the next impact could end everything. September wound her arms around Macy’s warm, solid body, snuggling and frantically zipping the purring cat inside her coat.
Mr. Bleak wanted them to run. He’d pick them off as they came out. She had no choice, had to take the only chance they had.
“Love you, Macy. Always remember I love you.”
The SUV’s engine roared. It barreled toward them.
Swinging open the door, she dove into the snow barely ahead of the impact. Her leg screamed in silent anguish when the SUV impact closed the car door on her thigh. He backed away again, ready to smash the car a third time. She had seconds to move, escape, hide...
September rolled, scrambled to her feet, and gambled precious seconds to slam the driver’s door. Fogged windows hid the interior. He’d check inside before coming after them. That could buy them enough time.
She limped away in an unsteady crouch then ducked down a narrow alley crowded with dumpsters. Behind her, the SUV’s third impact echoed. September increased her pace, running in a limping gait once around the corner at the end of the alley. She cradled Macy’s bulk like a pregnant woman sheltering a child, and raced back the way she’d come. She had to find the police, Shadow, or both, before Mr. Bleak tracked them down.
