Pleased to be out of his view and down the hall, I heard his gulps of fast breath as I edged closer to the opening and the busy sounds around the village. A distant shout here, a scream there. Engines roaring. Gunfire cracked in the wind with explosions as they searched more houses.
Holding my hand out for Tommy to stay back, I came to the doorway and poked my head out just enough to see down the empty road to the left.
There were no soldiers. No small tanks lumbering around.
I pulled back in, taking a deep breath, then peered around the frame to the right. The soldiers were five houses down already, hammering the door with two large swings and they were in. A loud bang came before the echo died.
It was time.
I pushed the top button on the remote and the lights flashed once as the locks clicked.
“Now,” I said without looking back and rushed around to the passenger door, twisting my head left and right as I pulled at the handle. But it was locked and I realised I hadn’t checked to see if the key was damaged.
Pressing the button a second time, the locks clicked again and the door pulled open as I grabbed at the handle.
Tommy rushed around me, jumping in the car.
“Stay down,” I whispered, as I eased the door closed and ran around the front, taking the driver’s seat, then pushed myself as low as I could before I took a moment to catch my breath.
After placing the pistol in the centre console, I looked at Tommy, who’d squeezed into the footwell. He peered up, wide-eyed and hopeful.
I nodded as my breath slowed, looking to the keys in my hand, then to the ignition and the array of controls. I swallowed hard.
I shook my head. I had no time to think of what I could do next. Instead, I moved up in my seat, just a little, and thought back to my mum driving.
There were two pedals, not three. One large one in the middle and one to the right. There was no gear stick, but a selector lever sitting between the two seats along with the handbrake. My breathing became easier as I realised it was an automatic.
Leaning around the steering wheel, I found the key slot and the thin metal slid in with great ease, lighting up the dashboard and telling me to push my foot on the brake before I started the engine.
A smile formed as I realised how helpful the car was being.
I pressed my right foot to the brake.
About to turn the key, I looked to the left and the muffled voices a little way down the houses. Two soldiers jogged our way. I could guess the anger underneath their gas masks.
“Shit, they’ve found us.”
13
Turning the key, I watched as the soldier’s heads snapped up to look our way and I realised although they’d been running towards us, they hadn’t been looking at the car. I peered back, no longer in any doubt they’d seen the terror on my face.
Whilst I regretted the decision not to stay hidden until they were inside, looking for the one I’d shot, their rifles rose and I pushed my foot to the right pedal, gritting my teeth through the pain. The engine roared, but we didn’t move. Looking to the gear selector, I grabbed it with my left hand through the cloth and pushed down the button on the side as I tensed with the pain in my palm.
Pushing the lever forward, the car groaned with a terrible voice of effort under the bonnet and as I realised I’d left the handbrake up, it released, Tommy lifting out of the footwell and pushing the button on the end of the other lever.
We surged backward. I twisted the wheel left before stomping hard on the brake to stop us in the middle of the road.
Tommy grabbed the selector and slid it into Drive as I jabbed my foot down as hard as I could to the accelerator. We were off.
As I gripped the wheel tight with my good hand, I corrected our direction down the road, only looking in the mirror as the rear windscreen shattered, showering us with glass.
Ducking down as far as I dared, we sped, whilst I held the wheel as straight as I could.
With another shot, I peered ahead, leaning forward in hope of seeing what waited around the corner.
The car stayed on four tyres as I twisted the wheel, the rubber squealing into the turn, seeming as if we would go on two wheels and flip over.
We were about to come out to the road splitting the village in two; the road where at each end there was a roadblock manned by a load of soldiers in gas masks and holding guns they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot us with as soon as they saw us.
I slammed on the brakes and we lurched forward, Tommy falling into the footwell, but he climbed back to the seat as we stopped.
“Stay down,” I snapped.
Looking around, I cursed having driven in the wrong direction and away from where I was trying to get us to. Knowing we’d be killed straight away if I turned us around and took the quickest route, I couldn’t decide if I should loop around the village and come around from the other side or try for somewhere on the opposite side of the village.
The soldiers knew about us now. They
