Page 57 of Omega
Gradually, my belly full and my anxiety lessened, I decided to rest my head on my arms for a moment.
* * *
A scream woke me.
Not mine, but someone else’s. A woman’s. Terrified. Panicked.
I bolted upright, reaching into my back pocket for the knife. The patio was empty, but there was a big black SUV sitting with its engine idling and all four doors open. Definitely the kind of big black SUV a kingpin would send his thugs out in to look for a certain American girl.
I realized as well that my spot at the table with my head down and hidden behind the tilted umbrella meant that theymightnot have seen me. But they’d followed me here, somehow. I heard shouting, a gunshot, and a scream, the sound of a bullet piercing the tin roof.
What to do?
Duh. Only one thingtodo: steal the truck. I hated letting the nice old lady get hurt over me, but hopefully the thugs wouldn’t actually kill her if she didn’t really know anything about me. I was essentially defenseless, anyway, so what could I do to help? Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight and all, right?
Cursing under my breath, I watched the door for a split second, and then bolted, vaulting the low fence separating the patio from the parking lot, slid on dirt, ran around the SUV slamming the doors closed on my way to the driver’s seat. I jumped in, hauled the door shut, and threw it into reverse, gunning it and jerking the wheel around. The powerful vehicle skidded backward and spun in a circle on the gravel, scattering hens and pebbles all over the place. I almost crashed into a nearby hut but I recovered and jerked the gear shift into drive, shoved the gas pedal to the floor.
I heard gunshots, and the back window shattered and the round buried itself in the passenger seat headrest. More rounds hit into the body, the rear quarter panel. Then I was around the corner and out their field of vision.
I hauled ass down the hill at a reckless speed, hit the beach and turned into the city.
How the hell had they found me?
My phone rang. Because of the traffic I was forced to go slow, so I answered it, watching my mirrors for signs of pursuit.
“Harris?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m in São Paulo right now, headed down your way.” I heard road noise in the background. “Where are you?”
“Still in Guarujá, although I’ve just run into trouble.” I glanced in the rear-view mirror just then and saw a black SUV identical to the one I was driving cut into oncoming traffic, pass three cars, and pull up behind me.
“Trouble?”
“Yeah. I had this nice little spot out of the way at this tiny little café. And they just…showed up. I don’t know how they found me. I walked there, and didn’t stop to talk to anyone. I didn’t think anyone even fucking saw me.”BLAM! A round slammed into the radio. “Shit. They’re shooting at me.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No, but I have a knife. Hold on one second.” I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and jerked the wheel to the right and stood on the brakes.
This earned me a rear-ending which jolted me forward and gave me a nasty case of whiplash, but my pursuers shot past me, which was my goal. I gunned the engine and pulled up next to them, gritted my teeth, and hauled the wheel left, bashing into them. My window shattered and the door crumpled against my leg, but the other SUV didn’t fare as well. I’d forced it into an oncoming cargo truck, which plowed into the black SUV, demolishing its front end. I floored the gas pedal and pulled away, cut left onto a one-way street, and then made a couple more turns at random.
“Layla!” I heard his voice distantly, tinny, and remembered the phone.
“Harris, hey, I’m here. Sorry about that.”
“Are you okay?” He sounded panicked. Well, maybe not panicked exactly, but concerned at the very least.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I sideswiped them into oncoming traffic. I think I lost them.”
“Don’t assume. There are always more.”
“Thanks for the reassurance,” I said, deadpan. “I’m pretty sure I just caused a lot of injury and death.”
“You want me to lie to you?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “Keep telling me the truth.”
“The truth is you’re going to be fine. Keep doing whatever it takes to avoid letting them get their hands on you. Don’t worry about the collateral damage; just pretend you’re in a Jerry Bruckheimer movie, all right? Get back to the 160, the road you took south out of São Paulo. Head north, and call me when you’re on it. We’ll figure out a place to meet.”