The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 3

http://mindgasms.theblogpress.com/2017/05/28/cold-darkness-night-chapter-3/

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Chapter 3

The first bullet Brian fired at the blue BMW hit the hood just below the front windshield. Since the BMW passenger firing the AK-47 leaned far out of the window, the projectile missed him by only a few inches. Both assassins instinctively pulled their bodies back inside the vehicle, like groundhogs dropping down their holes when they spot a predator.

“Wait until he stops firing, then we’ll fire back,” ordered the driver of the BMW, with venom in his voice. Evasively weaving the car back and forth across the road, he was like a poisonous cobra, eluding its prey.

“Keep the car steady while I’m shooting, man! They must be reloading!” Brian yelled to be heard over the din of roaring engines and the booming bullet barrage. His arms rested on the roof of the Chevelle to brace his shots.

“All right,” acknowledged Bill.

Aiming carefully, Brian’s second bullet shattered the windshield. The pursuers ducked, and the driver quickly weaved the car to the opposite side of the road. The tires squealed aggressively in protest, leaving dark black skid marks.

Brian squeezed his trigger a third time, aiming at the front passenger side tire. The slug barely missed its target, hitting above the wheel, shattering fibreglass and plastic. Fragments of blue and silver material exploded into the air, and onto the roadway, showering the atmosphere with a blanket of bright splintered splotches.

Before Brian aimed another shot, the chasers fired again, as their BMW sped up and steadied itself on the center of the road. The huge man quickly pulled himself back into Bill’s vehicle.

The rounds perforated the rear bumper of the Chevelle, and destroyed the passenger side mirror. One bullet hit the rear view mirror, making it dangle like a hangnail about to fall off. Several slugs connected with the front windshield, shattering it within a few seconds. Glass fragments showered Bill and Brian’s arms that they raised to protect their faces.

The barrage of hot metal stopped. Bill steadied the Chevelle, slowing down slightly.

Brian lined up his next target. The BMW passenger got hit in the shoulder. Feeling the shot enter his body, he grunted as blood exploded out of his wound and splattered the dashboard.

The driver stopped weaving the vehicle, worried about the man next to him. Brian took advantage of this opportunity, and sent his final round toward the driver’s side front tire. This time, he didn’t miss. The slug hit the front of the wheel at a diagonal angle, going through the rubber like a sharp knife through warm butter. It popped the wheel, and lodged in the hubcap. The tire blew, shredding on the road and flying haphazardly off to the side. The metal scraped violently along the ground, scorching sparks soaring through the air. As the BMW slowed, it careened sideways, the back right part of the vehicle spinning toward the front.

The killer at the wheel over-corrected, screaming “Fuuuuuuuck!” The car rotated the opposite way. As the back left section reached a point perpendicular to the blown tire, the whole BMW flipped sideways, end over end.

Bill floored the gas in his Chevelle to avoid being hit by the flying automobile. Eventually it stopped, like a frantically galloping antelope that had broken its leg and tripped into a sprawling somersault. The wounded animal lay inertly in middle of the road.