Bold Tricks(8)By: Karina Halle
Camden gave me an odd look but opened the compartment and handed me the gun that was thankfully still in there. It wasn’t my colt .45—that was in the trunk still—but it would do.
“What are you doing?” Camden yelled as I quickly checked the clip and slammed it back in.
“She’s being a good girl,” Javier said, just as the trunk was bombarded with bullets, sounding like metal fireworks being set off. “Fuck!” he yelled and swerved, trying to lose them, as I attempted to lean out of his window. I wedged myself up against the back of his seat and faced behind us. The wind whipped my hair around, the spotlight blinding me, but I managed to keep the gun aimed upward at the helicopter. I had no idea if this would work like it did in the movies but I figured it was better than just sitting in the backseat and doing nothing.
Only problem was, Javier kept swerving and throwing me off balance and the chopper kept moving out of my sights. You’d think that would mean that their bullets weren’t any closer to hitting us but that wasn’t quite the case. One hit the trunk again, a dangerously close call, just as Javier brought the car spinning around the corner and on to another road.
“Where do I shoot?” I screamed above the noise. “The fuel tank?”
“Shoot the fucking person who’s shooting at us!”
“Right,” I muttered. All I could see against the light was the outline of the chopper, not anyone inside. Still, there was a faint red glow whenever the gun went off so I just aimed there, firing off a few rounds and hoping they went somewhere.
Suddenly the windshield in the back of the car was hit and I screamed as it exploded into a million shards of glass. Obviously I hadn’t hit the gunman yet.
“Keep shooting!” Javier yelled as he brought the car around onto another street. We were leaving the hidden, residential hills of the wealthy and into the more open and busier suburbs of Veracruz. It was well lit and now there was traffic we had to contend with.
The chopper ducked down lower and sped up as we slowed to navigate around the cars on the road. The sound of horns, irate yells from drivers, and screeching tires filled the air. I took aim once more and fired again and again, hoping it would hit at least the windshield. But the helicopter came closer, the wind from the rotors shaking my arm like jelly, its landing skids almost coming down on top of us until Javier swerved the car to the left and the chopper had to rise quickly to get above a tall semi-truck in its path. I took the time to grab my arm with my other hand, trying to steady myself, to ignore the cramp in my lower back, the pressure of the door frame against my shoulder.
Come on, Ellie, I told myself as the helicopter came back again, much faster now and much lower, as if it didn’t give a fuck anymore.
“Drive faster!” I yelled but wasn’t sure Javier could hear me over the noise. I took in a deep breath, trying to see past the hair flying in front of my face and started firing.
I fired and fired but it just came closer and closer.
And then there was a dull click.
There were no more bullets left in my gun.
And my other clip was in the glove compartment.
We were fucking screwed.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I yelled at the gun, trying to figure out if I had enough time to duck back into the car to get the extra round. The helicopter was close enough now that I could see the guy with the semi-automatic leaning out of the door, one of his feet on the landing skids, the gun aimed directly at me.
A shot rang out through the air, blasting my ears.
The man with the gun wavered from his position, the gun slipping out of his hands first before he fell over and smashed onto the street below him, the cars behind us trying to drive around his body on the pavement.
What the hell?
I turned my head and looked over the hood of Jose. Camden was leaning out of his window, a gun in his hand, aimed at the chopper.
“Nice shot!” I yelled at him, feeling a surge of giddiness and adrenaline run through me. I think I was grinning.
He gave me a look that was as blasé as it could be when he was hanging outside of a speeding muscle car having just shot a man in a helicopter. Then with stark determination he aimed again and shattered the chopper’s window. Within seconds the helicopter started to tilt off to the side before going into a tailspin and crashing onto the shoulder of the road.
My mouth dropped open, eyes wide as hell, as the helicopter erupted into a giant fireball that lit up the street, nearly engulfing the passing cars around it. Though we were still speeding away, I could feel the blast of heat on my face.
I looked back to Camden incredulously. Where the hell had this man learned to shoot?