Page 62 of All He Takes
She fired.
She missed.
He dodged.
She fired again.
And again.
He kept coming, and Nicky knew she was in trouble.
She fired a fourth shot, this time hitting his arm. His knife dropped to the ground and slid away.
And then he was on her.
Nicky felt her gun go flying from her hand. The force of his body pushed her back against a brick wall. When she looked up, Harrison's eyes were wild. His hand went around her throat. He squeezed.
Nicky could feel herself starting to fade. But she could still fight. She could still fight for this girl, for herself, for all the people who were depending on her.
She reached up and grabbed Harrison's hand and struggled to push it away from her neck. She threw her knee up, kicking him violently in the groin, just hard enough to knock the wind from him. Nicky scrambled to her feet and went to grab her gun--but Harrison took the moment to flee. He dashed in the direction of the road.
"Oh no you don't!" Securing her gun, Nicky ran after him until they hit the main road. Harrison dashed forward, and then, Nicky saw it: the 1998 Hana Kuma. Harrison's car.
His long legs carried him fast, and he was at the car in seconds. Nicky fired off a shot at him, but he ducked and got into the car. She went to fire again--but she was out of bullets. She had to reload. She went to pull a mag out, but it was too late--Harrison's car started.
He whipped out of the parking spot and turned--coming straight for Nicky. The headlights momentarily blinded her, and she dodged out of the way, landing in a pile of garbage bags.
She could hear his tires screeching from behind her, and she jumped up just in time to see Harrison's car pulling away--leaving her behind. The car squealed, and then Harrison was off down the road, speeding away.
She ran after it--but it was no use. He was gone.
Nicky spotted her own car up ahead, parked at the side of the road too.
There was only one option left.
She was going after him herself--and she'd do it by car.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Nicky's car was an old, beat-up junker. It wasn't much, but it got her where she needed to go--and it had been with her since college, so it held a special place in her heart.
But that didn't stop her from yanking the steering wheel and turning on a dime as soon as she got into the driver's seat. She slammed it into reverse and pulled out--tires screeching. Then she turned the wheel again, and floored the little car.
She knew she'd have to be quick if she was going to catch up to him. He had a head-start, and even though his car was a shit-box, it was still ahead of hers.
The window in the car was open, and Nicky could feel the wind whipping in around her. He was driving fast, but she was going faster. It was the only way to catch up to him. She had to get there faster.
She could hear his car in the distance. It was just a matter of time now. She was going to catch him.
The next few minutes were a blur. Nicky barely registered the twists and turns they took through the city. She had to stay focused. She had to remember the paths they took, the turns they made. She had to be sure she knew where he was going.
It was difficult to tell how far ahead he was, but the sound of his car grew louder and louder. Nicky found herself on the stretch of highway that led out of town--and there, up ahead, she saw him.
Harrison's Hana Kuma.
Nicky pressed harder on the gas pedal. There was no one else on the road--just him and her, flying through the outskirts, past farmland.
She watched as the road curved, and she followed. Her tires squealed as she made the turn, and her car started to sway. She had to hold on. She had to keep it on the road. She couldn't lose him now.
