I made it downstairs and ran out the lobby.
One of the building security guards yelled something at me. I ignored him and rushed outside.
“ . . . she escaped and I’m trying to find her now. She is quite dangerous, but not berserker so.”
“Understood. I’m alerting the local authorities, now. By the way, there have been ten new reports. All in the LA area. Please use extreme caution.”
“Vadnez, you know me. I’m always . . . “
“ . . . rattling cages, causing chaos and mayhem sooner than later. Yes, I do know you, Ms. Bechard. Please keep the collateral damage to a reasonable level. Accounting is sending me hate emails.” Did I hear a smile out of that? He disconnected.
I came out the front end near a Subway sandwich shop and ran to the corner while talking to Vadnez. I spotted Reanders halfway down the block. She had just head butted someone in a Dodge Charger. She pulled a man out through the side window and tossed him across the street. I popped the spent clip out of the Glock and reloaded with a full clip. Too late, she sped past me headed up E 118 St.
I spotted a man next to a parked Smart car. I ran over to him. “UN Agent Karen Bechard.” I showed him my ID. “I need your car.”
He said, “Yeah, right. You kiddin’ me?”
Then I showed him my gun. “Get in the passenger side or get outta my way.”
He slid over to the passenger side and handed me his keys. I gunned the engine and popped the gear into drive.
“If I total this one I’ll have my boss buy you a new car.”
He snapped on his seat belt. “If I live through this I want a Tesla Model-S.”
E 118th was a one-way street big enough for one car with parking on both sides. Traffic was light as Reanders crossed rapidly over Madison. The light was still green for me so I stumped on the accelerator and zipped past other cars. Reanders, however, muscled her way through traffic. She sideswiped several cars causing small pile ups. I took the sidewalk and easily maneuvered past all the chaos. I was catching up when she made a sudden left turn on Park Ave. I overshot and decided to catch her by way of Lexington. I made the left turn and drove on the sidewalk. Lexington traffic was moving in the opposite direction.
“Holly shit lady. Who taught you how to drive?”
I just crossed 119st when I caught sight of the tail end of her car. School was still in session so I didn’t have to worry about kids. I was just about to cross 120th when she flashed just in front of us. She was looking right at me as she slid across the intersection. She was trying to hit us.
I made a sharp right and followed. 3rd came up and she took the left fast.
“Watch out!” My passenger yelled.
I missed an old man on a walker. “Thanks. Hey, what’s your name?”
He clenched the dashboard and looked terrified.
“Hey!” I said loudly. “I do this all the time. What is your name?”
“Andy! Andy, is my name! Holy . . . Lady!”
“Call me Karen.” We swerved right then left.
Reanders was clipping cars and causing crashes in the process. I wondered where she was headed to. Then I heard the sirens. NYPD was near. We made it to the end of 3rd and made the right onto E 128th. She was making her way to 2nd Ave when a M15 bus pulled out of the depot. She tried to avoid the bus but it was too late. The Dodge hit the passenger front tire dead center. Airbags deployed inside.
I slid the Smart car to a stop and jumped out.
Reanders staggered out as I reached her.
She shook off her daze and started to rage.
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