He nodded subtly. “They’re his. The news wouldn’t dare cover this.”
“Turn right down here,” Camden told him and we came down another street, this one more narrow, with the trees blocking out the streetlights that were few and far between. This was still a well-to-do area, though the houses were smaller and spaced further apart, all behind tall gates and walls. I did note that it was a dead-end road, which meant there was only one way out if something were to happen to us. We couldn’t be too careful, not with the choppers circling in the distance, their spotlights occasionally lighting up the sky.
“There she is,” Camden said, pointing to the end of the street where jungle seemed to have taken over and there were no streetlights. I could barely make out the shape of the car in the darkness.
“She?” Javier asked, eyebrow cocked. “Its name is Jose.”
Camden shrugged. “Guess she’s a cross-dresser.”
Javier sighed, shaking his head in disgust, and pulled the Jeep up to it. “Let’s make this fast.”
We hopped out and it was only now that we were closer that I saw what Camden meant by “battered.”
“Holy shit, Camden!” I cried out at the sight of the poor vehicle.
“What the hell did you do to my car?” Javier yelled, his hands thrown up in the air.
The GTO had the paint scraped off all along one side, the windows on the driver’s side were all shot out, the driver’s side mirror was missing, the front was totally crunched up with only the right headlight intact.
“Your car?” I asked Javier once I managed to look away from poor Jose. “What happened to the past being the past?”
“Now’s not the time to argue semantics,” Camden interrupted us. “She’s broken but she’s a survivor.” He fished the keys out of his suit jacket and tossed them at me. “Just like you.”
I caught them and he held my eyes for a moment before walking past me back to the Jeep.
Javier scoffed, though I didn’t know if it was for the state of the car or Camden’s comment, and made his way to the trunk. He bumped it with his fist. “Come on, let’s get her open.”
I was about to hurry over to him when Camden suddenly said, “Fuck.”
I spun around and looked at him. He was frozen in the act of taking off his jacket, his good arm free, his head cocked upward, eyes searching the sky. The sound of the choppers had gotten louder and over the tips of the waving trees I could see the spotlight in the sky, the blades whirring.
“Yeah, no kidding fuck,” I said. I turned to Javier and quickly ran over to him, trying to get my keys into the trunk of the car. I kept fumbling, missing the lock just as the wind blew my hair back and we were lit up by the spotlight, the helicopter coming closer. We were in their sights, no doubt about that. We had been spotted.
“Hurry up!” Javier yelled at me before ripping the keys out of my hands.
Camden hit the side of the Jeep with his fist. “There’s no time!” he yelled. “We have to go!”
“No!” I yelled back as Javier got the trunk open. “Not without my stuff!”
Suddenly the ground in front Camden started exploding with bullets as a steady stream of them came off the approaching chopper. We all cried out, dirt flying everywhere.
Javier quickly slammed the trunk shut. “Then we’re taking Jose. Get the fuck in!”
He went for the driver’s seat as Camden came running over, taking my hand and pulling me to the passenger side. He shoved me into the backseat, telling me to lie down, and barely got in the car himself before Javier was gunning the engine and driving the car backward. I could feel the wheels spinning for grip beneath my head and tried to sit up just as the sound of more bullets filled the air. I was tossed back down as Javier put the pedal to the floor and turned the wheel, the sheer power of the rear wheels grinding until we did a 180 until we were facing the right way. The chopper was now directly above us and I could feel the wind its blades created flowing through the smashed windows, the spotlight blinding me.
“Hang on,” Javier said, “this is going to get ugly before it gets better.”
He pressed down on the gas again and the car roared loudly before it lurched forward and we were all pinned back to our seats from the force. This is exactly why I loved this car. I just hoped he was stronger than he looked at the moment.
We raced down the street, the chopper in hot pursuit, the whir of blades and bullets gaining on us. I leaned forward between the seats, reaching for the glove compartment, waving my hand at it when I couldn’t reach. “My gun, give me my gun!”
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.