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***P***
Peering out the sheer drapes, my gloved hand gripped the man’s meaty neck. I held a switchblade against his carotid artery as I watched Duke’s SUV approach the gate. Instead of entering the gate, the driver threw the truck in reverse and slammed on the gas pedal. Smoke left the tires as they spun in place. He put the truck in drive and fishtailed as he peeled rubber, then barreled down the tree-lined street. It looked like a scene from the movie Drive.
“Shit, he’s on the move,” I yelled through the earpiece.
“We’ve got eyes on him,” Ettore said.
The big guy laughed. “He outsmarted you, Franco.”
“You think so, huh?” The knife slid across the artery before I released him. Blood spurted from his neck. His big hands curled around his neck, trying to stop the bleeding.
A smile tipped up one end of my lips as I dropped him to the floor like dirty laundry. “I love a good car chase.”
Clip laughed.
“What do you think tipped him off?” I asked as we trudged through the sea of dead bodies littering the floor like sardines.
Clip shook his head. “Probably the missing guards who normally patrol the perimeter.”
A wicked grin lifted my cheeks as we hopped in the black muscle car.
“Yes. I could almost see the horror on his stoney face,” I said.
“When I get to the end of the block, I want to know which way to turn,” Clip bit out through the earpiece as we approached the gate. His gloved hands curled the steering wheel as he waited for the black wrought-iron gate to open.
“Clip, no problem. The drone is flying above Duke’s truck,” Ettore chuckled.
I ran a hand over the black and white skeleton mask covering the lower half of my face.
“Drive this car like you’re in the Indy five hundred, Clip.”
He smiled like racing cars was his dream job. I checked my AR-fifteen magazine before shoving it into my rifle.
Ettore barked out directions. Clip drove through the streets of Salem like he grew up there.
“This is going to be fun.” I smirked, leaning out of the car window in broad daylight. My finger squeezed the trigger. Bullets hurled through the air, bouncing off the truck windows.
“This guy and his fucking bulletproof vehicles,” I growled.
Detour signs came into view as we continued the car chase. Before long, Duke’s driver drove down a long stretch of road leading to an apple orchard. The truck slammed into the gate, knocking it open. Once they ran out of road, his driver drove across the vacant property. There was nowhere for him to go. Maybe he thought he could exit the property on the other side. Clip veered to the left just as Duke’s truck rode over the spike strip. Duke and his bodyguard exited the truck, firing their rifles as they fled on foot.
“You aren’t getting away, Duke,” I bit out.
The second I jumped out of the car, I hit the grass next to the tire. I aimed at Duke's leg and fired a shot. The bullet hit his flesh, taking him down.
“Ah,” he welled, still clutching his rifle.
I heard bullets in the distance. The rifle fell from his grip as he brought his bloody hand to his chest.
“Ouch,” Duke yelled.
His bodyguard yelped as a bullet tore through his shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon.
Clip and I ran toward the men.
“Duke, that was some car chase,” I laughed, kicking his rifle aside, then I yanked the mask until it rested around my neck.
Duke burst into laughter, too. “You just won’t die. Fuck,” he hollered at the top of his lungs.
