Livewire

Chapter 30

The police van trundled through the streets after leaving the precinct, slowing down occasionally to turn corners. Kyle could feel the light force on his body whenever the van made a manoeuvre, so he could tell which way they were turning. It made no difference though. Within the metal cage, he was blind to the world outside, unable to navigate the route through the city to wherever they were taking him.

His mind was preoccupied with the dread and helplessness of the situation. The fact that his fate was not in his own hands made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

After a while it became hard to judge the passing of time. The only reason he knew he had been sitting there a long time was because his arse was numb. The seats had no cushioning and it was vibrating a little from the tyres rumbling on the road, while the van drove at speed. In fact, he noticed that they had not made any turns for some time.

They must be on the freeway, leaving Veracruz. The van seemed to have a constant speed, not slowing down or accelerating, which backed up his theory.

His mind turned to the potential destination ahead of him. There were several detention centres he knew of and none of them had favourable reputations. He knew of stories from all of them where inmates had killed each other. As a foreigner he would be an easy target. There were also several known cartel members serving time.

One word from Baldo and Kyle would be skewered in his sleep. It was a likely possibility - Baldo knew Kyle was behind the train robbery. Now he would be a sitting duck to his revenge.

Sweat built on his brow and his mouth went dry. He needed to distract himself from these dark thoughts.

A sudden force hit him from behind. Before he could even acknowledge the shunt, his body was flung forwards, yanking hard against the chains at his feet and the belt around his waist. He was instantly disoriented. In the next fraction of a second the van began to tumble and the world spun. His ankles were thrown above his head and then flopped back down again. The vehicle rolled again, flapping him round like a ragdoll in a washing machine with each turn. His limbs flailed out of control, repeatedly tugging against the shackles. At the peak of each turn he felt weightless, followed by the immediate drop in his stomach when he was hurled back down.

The world stopped rolling and his senses came back to him and adrenaline surged through his veins. His face started to grow tight and his head became heavy. He was hanging upside down. The van had used up all of its momentum and come to a stop on its roof. He glanced around as far as his range of motion allowed. The frame of the van was battered but the prison cell inside was still intact. The opposite side of the van was caved in, having taken the brunt of the impact.

There was no other sound. Had the guards been knocked out in the crash? His head was becoming foggy while the blood poured down into it. He could see no way out. Even if he could unbuckle the belt, his leg would still be chained to the van. If by some miracle he could untether himself, the cell could only be unlocked from the outside.

He sniffed the air. The distinct smell of petrol fumes was growing. The fuel tank must be ruptured and leaking petrol out over the road. The smallest spark would ignite it and he would be cooked alive inside. He began to struggle against the chains. Surely someone would come and help.

Bang. He froze. It was a gunshot.

Bang. Another. Someone was outside and had fired at the van. Were they trying to kill him?

The back doors rattled. They were stuck shut and wouldn't open. The impact of the crash must have bent them out of shape. There was a clunk, followed by the sound of metal screeching and buckling. One of the doors popped but still would not open. Bang. Bang. Two more gunshots. The metallic screech returned and the door fell away, pouring daylight inside.