DESPERATE

38

Abbey’s pulse raced, her palms slick against the cold plastic of the dashcam. This ordinary device, once a passive observer of routine traffic stops, now harbored a sinister secret—a digital echo of their most heinous act. It had captured it all: her abrupt assault on the officer, followed by her and Kenzo's concealment of the officer's body in the trunk of a stolen car.

Though Todd devised the scheme to steal the vehicle, it was Abbey who executed the theft. In a bold move, Abbey employed a technique she had learned about through whispered rumors and obscure online forums—a method known as a CAN injection attack. With a device designed to exploit vulnerabilities in the car's electronic system, she mimicked the signal of the car's key fob. The car, deceived by the clever ruse, unlocked its doors to her. Once inside, she plugged the gadget into the diagnostic port and, with a few targeted adjustments, the engine sprang to life without a key. She drove through the quiet streets until she reached the safety of Todd's mother's home.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Todd's sudden cough. He spoke with a deep, serious tone. "Let's stop at a gas station," he said carefully. "We'll get a gas can and fill it up with fuel—enough to set this car ablaze.”

In the claustrophobic darkness of the trunk, Randall was jolted by the distant talk of setting the car on fire. Adrenaline flooded his veins as he heaved the officer's lifeless form away, desperate for air. Time was slipping, and with each heartbeat, the urgency to escape mounted. The pounding headache did little but cloud his thoughts. Yet, he forced his eyes closed, pressing at his temples, drawing in lungfuls of air, willing his mind to focus on an avenue of escape.

The neon glow of the gas station sign flickered in the distance as Todd steered the car off the main road. The place was a beacon in the night, an oasis of fluorescent light amidst the darkness. They pulled up to the pump, and the sound of the engine subsided, leaving a heavy silence.

Todd and Abbey stepped out. The air was tinged with the scent of gasoline and fried food from the station's diner. Todd felt a wave of nausea and hurried to the restroom. Meanwhile, Abbey approached the attendant with a steady voice, "One gas can, please." The attendant nodded, eyeing her cautiously as he handed over the red container.

Kenzo kept watch, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble. Cyrie, still groggy, leaned against the window, her mind foggy and her vision blurred. The gas can sloshed as Abbey filled it, the sound a grim reminder of their purpose. Todd returned to the car and slammed the door shut, grumbling, “I hate being sick.”

They paid in cash, avoiding any unnecessary conversation. As they drove away, the gas station became a speck in the rearview mirror, a last glimpse of civilization before they ventured into the unknown.

The secluded spot was an abandoned quarry, a silent witness to the passage of time, hidden miles away from the nearest onlooker. Shadows enveloped the jagged rocks, creating an eerie tapestry that moved with the wind's mournful song through the crevices. They parked the car at the precarious edge, where the ground was a patchwork of uneven terrain and the vegetation grew wild and untamed.

With deliberate movements, Todd drenched the car in gasoline, the fumes stinging their nostrils. Abbey's hands were steady now, the tremble gone. She looked at the others, their faces illuminated by the match she struck. The flame danced in her eyes, a tiny beacon of defiance.

Randall was in a state of utter panic. The thought of being burned alive alongside the body of the deceased officer was unbearable.

In a desperate attempt to signal his presence, he grabbed the officer's lifeless arm and banged it against the trunk's interior with all his might, repeatedly. The sickening possibility of bones cracking was of no concern to him; his mind was consumed by the instinct to survive, to avoid such a gruesome end at all costs.