Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 75 - False Pretenses

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART FOUR :: Leave The Front Line Behind

Chapter 75 - False Pretenses

Ally fingered the gold locket hooked around her neck in nervousness. It had been returned by Trenton when she was discharged from the hospital. Her eyes flittered to the rearview mirror from where she sat in the back of the police car, waiting to see the black car that she knew her brother would soon be appearing in from the chatter coming in through the radio that the policeman had turned on. Her fingers slid down the thin gold chain, moving to feel the miniature camera had been added to the chain. It was about the width of a thumb and its length was not much greater, reaching from the tip to the minor knuckle (only about an inch long). It doubled as a small, white thumb drive that the police had loaded with a program to copy all of the files and programs off of James' computer when Ally plugged it in and typed in a short, four digit command code. The drive had a tiny, elevated black lens on the side, a small screen on the back that displayed the images, as well as both a power and capture button set on the very top. The left side had a removable white cap that could be pulled off to reveal the hidden flash drive.

Seeing the prison walls looming in the distance, Ally began to worry that James wasn't going to make it in time and that she would really end up locked in the large, intimidating facility. However, the thought was quickly severed from her mind as the police car jolted forward, sending her flying into the partition that separated her from the police officer who was sitting in the passenger seat. She groaned, her eyes flying to the rear view mirror once again only to find a black sports car was trailing them, the police car that used to be located at the back of the succession now lying across the middle of the road in a sea of its own destruction. Two thick rows of grass had been torn up off the bank, making it obvious that James had pushed the other car up the bank after it had jerked forward to hit the rear of the car she rode in. The police car had then flipped over and landed with its hood scraping across the pavement.

"Here we go," the police officer muttered, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as the black car sped past us.

Ally quickly tucked her necklace back under Trenton's hoodie, sitting upright in the seat and stretching her handcuffed arms out to hold onto the partition for support and so that she didn't get thrown into it once again.

Looking out the window, she watched as her brother cut in front of the police car ahead of them, causing the car to swerve and crash directly into the side of her brother's black sports car. Her brother then backed his car out of the scene, not even a dent or scratch on his precious framework, as the driver in front of her tried to figure out the easiest way to let her brother stop the car and get her out without this ending with him in a hospital. Finally veering sharply to the right, the car went over the shoulder of the road and nose dived into a small ravine, its hood crunching as the wheels spun in the air. The cop's head slammed into the steering wheel, a thin line of blood running from a small cut on his forehead. He quickly glanced back at her, sending her a nod as he shut his eyes and leaned forward, pretending to be unconscious from the wreck.

Taking the signal, Ally called on fake tears she had long ago mastered as a teenage girl and dramatically tried to force the door open. She rolled her lip into her mouth and widened her eyes in fright when she saw her brother emerge from his car. He did not move immediately, but rather remained behind the bulletproof door with his gun held firmly in both hands, his eyes scoping out the area.

Finding no immediate threat, James carefully stepped around his open car door and took cautious steps down the small hill, his gun never lowering. Likewise, his eyes never stopped moving around the surrounding area. His gun was trained on the driver as he opened her door. "Are you okay?"