Chapter 6 - The Engine That Roared
The cool night air hit them like a splash of cold water as Sarah scrambled up the concrete basement steps, clutching Emma tightly against her chest. Jax followed close behind, his boots crunching loudly on the gravel path leading away from the house.
In the distance, the sharp wail of a police siren began to cut through the quiet suburban night. Red and blue lights flashed against the treetops a few blocks over, painting the neighborhood in violent, rotating hues.
“They called local law enforcement,” Sarah panted, her sneakers skidding slightly on the loose gravel. “If the cops stop us, we’re finished. They’ll hand us right over to whoever is running those black-ops thugs.”
“They won't stop us if they can't catch us,” Jax grunted, breaking into a swift, long-legged stride. He led them away from the paved roads, weaving through a narrow municipal park path bordered by thick stands of pine trees.
The branches whipped at Sarah’s face, but she didn't slow down. Emma buried her face deeper into her mother’s shoulder, silently enduring the chaotic escape.
After ten agonizing minutes of running through the dark underbrush, Jax pushed through a final thicket of bushes and stepped out onto an unpaved maintenance road. Parked in the shadows of a defunct water tower sat an old, beat-up black Ford pickup truck with a rusted tailgate and dual exhaust pipes.
Jax pulled a heavy iron key from his leather vest and unlocked the passenger door, swinging it open with a metallic creak.
“Get in. Floorboards are a little rusty, but she runs like a freight train,” Jax said, scanning the tree line behind them.
Sarah climbed into the cab, sliding across the worn vinyl bench seat to buckle Emma safely in the middle. The smell of motor oil, old leather, and stale coffee filled the interior. Jax slammed the door shut, rounded the hood, and vaulted into the driver's seat.
He jammed the key into the ignition and twisted it hard. The engine coughed twice, sputtered, and then roared to life with a deep, guttural rumble that shook the dashboard.
As Jax threw the gearshift into reverse, sweeping headlights suddenly cut across the entrance of the maintenance road fifty yards behind them. A black SUV barreled around the corner, its tires spitting gravel as it locked onto the truck.
“Hold on,” Jax growled.
He slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The truck leaped backward, spinning in a wide, controlled arc before Jax slammed it into drive and tore down the dirt road into the safety of the dark highway.
Sarah looked back through the rear window, watching the SUV shrink in the distance. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She turned to Jax, her voice sharp with demand.
“You said Daniel is alive. Where is he?”
Jax kept his eyes locked on the asphalt, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
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“He’s in a federal black site in Montana. And we’re going to break him out.”
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