Copyright© 2010 by Michael Wolfam
The relief from reaching the Porsche was quickly dashed when Liv remembered why she had been hiking through the tundra in the first place. She frantically dug into the small pocket of her skirt, nearly flinging the key into the canyon as she yanked it out. "That would have been just about right," she thought.
Liv's heart pounded like a sledgehammer in her chest. The blood coursing through her veins was ice cold as she pushed the worn key into the ignition, hastily cranking the engine over. "Come on, Murph. You get me home in one piece and I promise to get you anything you want. I know you've been looking at those new tires and shiny chrome rims. They're yours, I promise." As Liv sweet-talked the car, she glanced at the digital temperature gauges mounted to the dashboard.
She had added the precision instruments after rebuilding the engine. Her dad's love of gadgets had rubbed off on her and she had wired several thermocouple temperature sensors to critical points of the car. With a quick glance, she could see the oil, cylinder head, and transmission fluid temperatures. The gauges allowed her to keep tabs on the car's health.
Today, Liv hoped these gauges would save her life. The factory installed temperature gauge wouldn't work without water in the cooling system. The digital gauges were her only chance of keeping the engine working long enough to make it back to Eagles Landing. If the engine got too hot it would seize as metal expanded against metal, locking together under extreme heat, killing the motor.
The situation wasn't completely hopeless. The road to town was mostly downhill. Liv could turn the car off periodically to try and save the engine from itself. It was a long shot, but the only one she had. Liv punched the gas and let out a scream.
Shamus O'Donnell, the current driver of the Jeep, smiled a wolfish grin as he crested the hill well ahead of the trailing Chevrolet 4 X 4. "Holy shit, that's one good lookin' bitch," he savored the sight of the visibly shaken Liv jumping into the little white sports car parked on the edge of the road next to the canyon. If O'Donnell could ram the car before she moved, he could knock it over the edge, sending her tumbling to a certain death below. O'Donnell stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The turbo infused V-8 pushed the Jeep forward, gobbling up the distance between the two vehicles. A two-ton arrow aimed straight at the heart of the white Porsche.