The Truck

Jesse fumbled with the cell phone; his arms still somewhat drained of energy from the events of the night, but managed to hold down the four button long enough for it to register the call. It rang only twice but those two rings felt like an eternity to Jesse as his adrenaline again began to pump with the truck bearing down on them. When they did pick up, someone was able to patch him through to the squad car already in pursuit of their position. He informed them of the situation and they said they were on their way but had no idea how long it would take them to catch up since Jackson was moving along fairly fast as well. A quick glance outside confirmed to Jesse that the policeman was hauling some serious butt. And he was focused. The officer on the other line, whom Jackson informed him was Officer McKinley, but referred to him as Mac so Jesse did the same, suggested they make a u-turn at the next possibly opportunity and make their way back towards the police station. That way if he was still following, they could nab him when he passed them.

Jesse relayed the story to Jackson and Jackson immediately complied at the "law enforcement only" turn-around point. Jesse banged his head against the side of the car and it was then that he realized he was not wearing a seat belt, in a cop car! He almost chuckled but then winced at the pulsing pain coming from his right temple and promptly buckled up and even grabbed the handle bar on the top of the door. It was then that he stole a glance behind them hoping beyond hope that the truck would be gone. His heart leaped when he saw an old Buick behind them a few yards, but nothing more. He then gleefully told the cop on the phone and Jackson, "I think we lost them!" Jackson, a little shaken from the u-turn, exhaled deeply and let out a low whistle. The officer looked back one last time to confirm it and was crushed.

Tailing the Buick and coming up hot was the truck. "We're not quite outta the woods yet, kid, but least we got back up." Jesse's heart sunk. He had no doubt in his mind that they wouldn't even reach the back up before the truck caught up to them and did God knows what to him. 'They sure didn't have any mercy on Heath, why should they show it for me?' He thought. Preston Jackson mumbled something about "stupid, lazy, desk cops, always late." It was then that Jesse spotted a patrol car parked about a half mile down the road. "I guess I spoke to soon," Jesse heard Jackson say. "Hey hand me the phone." Jesse had forgotten about the cell phone until then and realized he was still connected with Mac. He handed it to Jackson while he squawked, "'Ey this is Jackson, we're passing you right now, the truck just behind us is the guy. Pull him over would ya?"

No sooner did he say the word then the lights of the parked squad car turned on and the siren pierced through the otherwise eerily silent night. Luckily, the guy was smart enough to pull over as soon as Mac got behind him. Officer Jackson then pulled his car over a little ways up the road and motioned for Jesse to walk back with him so as to properly ID the guy. Jesse sighed with relief, released his death grip on the handle bar, and got up out of the car after Jackson opened the door for him. A little antsy, Jesse walked back with Jackson to the car where a guy who Jesse assumed was Mac was already interrogating the driver while another, female officer stood just outside the squad car watching. Focusing on their voices, Jesse perceived that Mac had a fairly heavy Northern accent, which Jesse had hardly realized over the phone. Though how often do you pay that much attention to an accent when you're fearing for your life? English is English amigo. Jesse continued to follow Jackson around to the left side of the car just as another old pickup truck rattled by. Jesse took in a deep breath as he prepared to face that could be his best friend's murderer. His expression turned cold and he cast a menacing look in the direction of the driver.

Ch 7: Stone Cold Eyes