Final Debt (Indebted #6)(35)

Only vacant property between me and the first Jeep.

Could it be that easy? Had fate finally decided to let us win?

My eyes danced from guard box to guard box. Last night’s ceremony was a special occasion where the rules on security were loosened. However, there should be at least one guard.

No one.

It wasn’t uncommon, but it didn’t ease me. It only made my condition fan out, seeking any emotional sway to signal humans were there just unnoticed.

My attention fell on the single cabinet bolted to the ground in the middle of the parking lot. The lock box housed the keys to the twenty or so Jeeps waiting to take the freshly slept workers to replace the night shift.

The cabinet didn’t require a key but a pin code.

And I knew the pin code.

My mother’s birthday.

Waving at Nila to follow, I dashed across the dirt and quickly fumbled with the tumbler.

Please, don’t let it be changed.

That would just be my f*cking luck.

It took three long seconds before the padlock sprang open.

Thank God.

My hands shook as I grabbed the set labelled with the closest Jeep’s license plate.

So close.

Please, let us get out of here.

My thoughts became prayers, paving the way to hopeful freedom.

Waving for Nila to dash from her hiding spot, I shoved her toward the car. “Go.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Together, we bolted around the vehicle and I unlocked the doors. Throwing myself into the driver’s side, I swallowed the gasp of pain from my side. Nila leapt in the passenger side and I shoved the key into the ignition.

Nothing happened.

I stomped on the gas, twisting the key.

Again, nothing.

“What the f*ck?” My eyes flew between the dead dashboard to the rapidly cresting sunshine.

We’re running out of time.

I tried again, shoving the pedal to the floor.

Start. Please, f*cking start.

The engine suddenly sputtered into life, coughing.

Then the worst sound imaginable.

It backfired.

The loud crack ricocheted through the quiet morning, ripping through silence, announcing to the world where we were.

“Fuck!” I pounded the dash with my fist. My heart stopped beating.

Nila huddled in her seat, panic glistening in her eyes. “What do we do?”

I wanted to tell her this wasn’t the end. That we still had a chance. But I didn’t have the breath.

I tore my gaze to the entrance gates.

Shit.

A guard appeared, bleary eyed and not doing his duty. He jogged to his post, raising his weapon, searching for the threat.

I didn’t wait for a bullet or an invitation to leave.

This was the only chance we had.

“Hold on!” Wrenching the gear stick, I forced the old Jeep into gear and shot forward.

Nila squealed as we fishtailed and pebbles pinged below us. The tyres chewed up dirt, snarling faster and faster.

The guard aimed.

“Go!” Nila screamed, gripping the dirty fabric of her chair. “Go. Go. Go!”

I forced the car faster. It lurched forward, squealing in a cloud of dust.

The guard dropped his arm, ducking out of the way as we careened over the half-way point, swerving around parked cars.

Closer.

Closer.

Come on. Come on.

He fisted a walkie talkie on his vest, his face bouncing between shock and surprise.

Yanking the steering wheel, we hurtled straight for him. I wouldn’t let him gather forces. Not now. Not when we were so close.

The gate and final freedom rose before us, promising happiness the moment we barrelled through it.

“We’ll make it. We’ll make it,” Nila chanted, holding the dash with white fingers.

I stomped harder on the gas, preparing to ram the entry. “We will. Almost there.”

My heart chugged and hope unfurled with joyous frissions at the thought of finally, finally, saving Nila and living up to my promises.

Only…

Fate wasn’t on our side, after all.

The gates swung wide and a barrier of men appeared from either side, marching in perfect combat, weapons drawn and armed.

“No!” Nila yelled, her voice mixing with the screaming engine.

What the hell—?

And then a man in a white shirt, goatee, and glistening colourless hair stepped pride of place in the line-up. He stood with his legs spread in the middle of his henchmen and pointed a finger right into my soul.

Motherf*cker.

I was right. Cut hadn’t waited.

He probably gave up waiting the same time we left with Daniel.

While we gave the lions breakfast, Cut had amassed a counter-attack.

“Fuck, f*ck, f*ck!”

“No!” Nila cried as I stood harder on the gas. “Don’t stop. Please, Kite. Do. Not. Stop. I don’t care. I don’t care if they shoot. Just…don’t stop!”

Feral ferocity exploded in my veins. “I won’t.”

They were in my way. I had a car. They didn’t.

“Put your belt on. Now!” I downshifted, granting more power and more screams to the angry engine. Our trajectory turned from hurtling to flying.

I would kill every last guard barricading my way. And I would do it gladly.