17. Making a Run For It

Chrissy makes a run for the Sycamore Bridge with the sheriff in hot pursuit.

Chrissy's heart leapt into her throat when she saw the sheriff's car parked at the diner as she drove by. It was partially obscured by a truck and she didn't see it until it was too late.

Maybe he didn't see me go by, she thought, Maybe he's in the bathroom. Maybe... She gave a sigh of resignation. Maybe I'll grow wings and fly to the Spencer River.

She watched her rear view mirror closely and her heart dropped when she saw the sheriff's cruiser pull out onto the road with its blue lights flashing. She immediately started looking for a place to pull off the road and head for the woods. Then she changed her mind. “I'm through hiding in the woods!” she muttered angrily, “If you want me, b*****d, come and get me!”

She gave her motorcycle full throttle.

Sheriff Horst cursed himself for turning on his flashing lights too early. Now the woman would know that he was after her. Sure enough, she immediately began to pull away from him. He accelerated his cruiser and began to catch up with her again. He knew it was only a matter of time before he overtook her. His cell phone rang and he picked it up. It was Mueller again.

“Sheriff! She fooled us! She tossed her phone into the back of a pick-up truck and led us on a wild goose chase.”

“I know,” Horst replied, “I'm chasing her now. She's headed north on McMillan Road toward the Sycamore Bridge.”

“How the hell did she get clear over there already?!”

“Someone else must've tossed her phone into that truck. Probably the kid. Get back to that store and search the place. Find that kid! I'll take care of the mother.” He disconnected and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “Christ! She must be pushing ninety miles-per-hour,” he muttered, then added with an evil grin, “But it's not fast enough, sweetheart.”

He was gaining on her fast as they approached River Road. He decided he would take her down as she slowed to make the turn. But when they got to River Road she blew right past it.

“Hah! The dumb b***h missed it,” he laughed to himself.

Just ahead to the left there was a convenience store. He would wait until they were past it before he wiped her out her so that there would be no witnesses. At the speed they were traveling a motorcycle spill was guaranteed fatal.

But when they reached the store Chrissy suddenly swerved into the other lane and braked hard as a surprised Karl Horst shot past her. She pulled into the store and circled through the parking lot, causing a couple of the patrons to dive out of her way as she came through. She pulled back onto the road and sped off toward River Road again.

Sheriff Horst slammed on his brakes, threw his cruiser into reverse and smoked his tires all the way back to the convenience store. He pulled into the store, spun around and sped off after Chrissy again. He was furious! She'd just made a fool out of him in front of several witnesses. And now she had regained enough of a lead to be able to make the turn at River Road with ease.

“It won't do you any good, sweetheart,” he said through clenched teeth, “You've still got several miles to go to get to that bridge. Plenty of time to take you out. Plenty of time!”

A race between a Yamaha V-Star 250 and a super-charged police cruiser on a straight, flat road wouldn't be much of a contest. The Yamaha wouldn't stand a chance. However, River Road was anything but straight and flat. It snaked and curved along the meandering path of the Spencer River and rolled up and down its hilly embankments. Even when it came to handling curves, the cruiser, with four tires against the pavement, would still carry a slight edge over the motorcycle with its two. But when it came to acceleration, the lightweight Yamaha would win hands-down against the much heavier cruiser every time.

And that's why every time Sheriff Karl Horst would close in on Chrissy as they entered a curve, Chrissy would accelerate out of the other side like a rocket and regain several yards of her slim lead. Over and over, curve after curve, hill after hill, he just couldn't quite catch her. It was maddening! His heart was pounding and he could feel sweat dripping down under his shirt as he pushed the cruiser to its limits around each turn, its tires squealing in protest. He knew he couldn't go one mile per hour faster without losing control. And yet she continued to elude him. It infuriated him. He was being outrun by a woman! - on a chick-bike!

He was beginning to fear that she would actually make the bridge. Legally, he could continue to chase her into the next county since he was in hot pursuit of a fugitive. But he would be obliged to notify the next sheriff's department and then they would join in the chase. That would create way too many complications. He had to catch her here on his turf. He had to get her before she got to that bridge!

They were less than a mile from the bridge when he saw Chrissy suddenly brake for a slow moving car in front of them. He smiled. “I've got you now, sweetheart,” he muttered out loud. Then, to his utter amazement, she pulled her motorcycle into the oncoming lane and started to pass the car in the middle of a large s-curve. “Christ! She's got nerves of steel!”

He wasn't about to let her leap-frog in front of the car and get away from him, so he pulled out to pass, too, praying that there was no oncoming traffic. Chrissy was abreast of the slower car when a giant cement truck came barreling around the curve at them. She had nowhere to go! She sidled her motorcycle up next to the car so close that her elbow actually brushed against the driver's side window. The wind from the passing truck almost spilled her as it roared past, missing her by mere inches. After it passed she accelerated and continued passing the car.

When Sheriff Horst saw the cement truck he hollered, “S**T!” and slammed on the brakes. He swerved back into the right lane just in time to miss the truck by less than a foot. But in his panic he over-compensated and went off onto the right shoulder, taking out three mailboxes as he did. He pulled the cruiser back onto the road, but the front tires grabbed the pavement before the rear tires did and the back of the car started to swing around. He steered into the skid and actually managed to regain control of the cruiser... but not in time to negotiate the next curve. He careened into the oncoming lane and hit the guardrail.

The last thing he remembered as his car went airborne was seeing Chrissy's motorcycle speeding across the Sycamore Bridge.

Author's Note

Chrissy is safe! Or is she?

Suggestions and constructive criticisms are always welcome.

Reviews

[Nienor Niniel]

You did a great job with the chase scene; I like that you included some of Chrissy's perspective, even though the majority of it was from the sheriff's. I would suggest replacing the "And so it was that" with another transitional phrase, like "therefore". "And so it was that" just sounds too...something? Most unhelpful, but I don't know. Or just strike it out altogether.

Can't wait to see what happens to Chrissy, and the sheriff.

(There are ads for 'police chase' and 'police truck' at the bottom of the page, and a Yamaha ad at the top. ha ha.)

[Craig2591]

Yeah, I wasn't real happy with "And so it was that" either. I'll definitely have to rethink that one. Thanks.

[N. Van Avery]

"And so it was that" sounds too elementary to me. Perhaps 'Thenceforth' 'From that time on' or 'consequently' would fit your tastes better?

[Tina Kline]

Motorcycles can do and go places a car can't. Exciting chapter.
You described the action perfectly!!!

[Craig2591]

Thank you, Tina. I did a lot of research for this chapter. I wanted to make it accurate.

[N. Van Avery]

BOOM B*****! AHAHA! I enjoy this story. Really feel like I'm on chrissy's side as if she's a real person. Some spelling errors, but that's whatever...they happen.

[Craig2591]

I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thanks!