Chapter 12

Copyright© 2010 by Michael Wolfam

Without using the engine, Liv managed to keep ahead of the faster, more powerful Jeep by masterfully navigating the winding road. The low slung Porsche clung to the road, while the taller Jeep swayed precariously as the driver clumsily tried to match her speed. As they descended into the canyon, the raging stream that carved it eons ago became visible.

Liv knew the next stretch of road would provide a golden opportunity to stop her tormenter. Ahead, a tight hairpin turn loomed. If she timed it right, Liv could get a clear shot at the driver of the pursuing Jeep as they passed each other. One on each side of the narrow horseshoe shaped canyon.

O'Donnell noticed the approaching hairpin turn and reflexively slowed down. He was growing tired of this game. During the straight sections of road he would nearly catch her, but before he could make a move, a curve would force him to slow down and the Porsche would leap ahead.

Not this time. He pushed the power window button. The glass dropped smoothly. O'Donnell grasped the Glock in his left hand and nudged it out the open window. Using the gun wasn't as exciting as shoving her off the road using the Jeep, but it would have to do. She couldn't be allowed to make it back to town.

"Goddammit! I wish I was British right about now," Liv clutched the Steyr in her left hand. "In Britain I could shoot out the window with my right arm, and drive with my left. Not the busted ass way I have to do it now." Liv was an excellent marksman with either hand. Her dad insisted she learn to shoot ambidextrously, but she greatly preferred firing with her right arm.

Liv briefly considered shooting with her right hand, but quickly decided this would probably just make the situation worse. "Nothing like accidentally shooting yourself in the boob to make this day better," she muttered.

The car's brake lights flashed. The front end of the Porsche dove to the ground as the vixen slammed on the brakes, skidding into the hairpin turn with maximum speed. O'Donnell had to give it to her, she was good, but he knew he was better. He waited until she reached the pinnacle of the hairpin. O'Donnell aimed and opened fire at the driver's side of the car.

"Monkey fucker," Liv swore when she saw puffs of smoke erupt from the Jeep. Most shots went wild as her pursuer unloaded the pistol rapidly at the moving Porsche. Several well placed 9mm rounds ripped through the car, shattering the rear windows just behind Liv's head and punching holes in the sheet metal. Her seat felt as if someone was kicking it as two rounds embedded themselves in the worn leather.

As Liv rounded the turn, she focused on exacting revenge. While the driver of the Jeep reloaded his empty Glock, she slowed, almost to a halt, and took careful aim.

"Nailed your ass, didn't I?" O'Donnell hollered gleefully as the Porsche, now missing most of its windows, slowed on the other side of the hairpin. His celebration was cut short when he noticed the gun in her outstretched left hand.

"Ah, you're a feisty one," he muttered, doubling his effort to reload the spent Glock.

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