Chapter Forty A Very Literal Game of Red Light, Green Light
Adelina
“Can’t you drive any faster?” Lily asks, gripping the back of Michael’s seat for support as we bank right. The cops are on our tail, chasing us through the crowded streets of Nice with their sirens on full blast.
“If you think you can do a better job, you’re welcome to try!” Michael shouts over his shoulder.
“We have to lose them,” Allistair snaps. “Take a left here!”
Michael does so, cranking the wheel with such force that the back end of the SUV slides out from behind us. He expertly throws the vehicle into second gear, controlling the momentum of our drift so that we don’t spin out.
Michael guns it down the narrow street, the buildings on either side of us threatening to scrape the paint off the sides of our car. It’s a one-way road. And judging by the small car rounding the corner just up ahead—we’re going the wrong way.
Michael shifts into fifth. I can’t bear to look.
We miss the car by a mere half inch, catching a bit of air as we hop the curb and swerve back onto the main road.
The police car that was in hot pursuit comes to a screeching halt, unable to pull off the same miraculous maneuver.
In the reflection of the rearview, the officer reaches for his radio, no doubt calling for backup.
I hold West as tight as I dare, pressing my hand against his wound to staunch the bleeding. Joseph got him in the chest, just below his left shoulder. There’s no exit wound, so I can’t tell if the bullet managed to pierce anything vital. All I know is that he needs medical attention, and soon.
“We have to get him to the hospital!” Michael exclaims over the chaos.
“And give the police the chance to catch up to us?” Allistair asks.
“We’ll have to dump and run,” Diana says, helping me apply pressure to the wound.
“No!” I snap. “We’re not leaving him behind.”
“We don’t have a choice,” his brother says. “Do you want him to bleed out?”
My stomach churns. “No.”
“The doctors have to treat him. They can’t turn him away.” Michael whips the car left, driving straight through a red light. The driver of a vehicle we cut off lays on their horn. “We’re not going to get very far with the way he is now. We’ll come back for him. I promise.”
I grind my teeth, exhaling shakily as I take in West’s face.
He’s pale, his features pinched in pain as a thick layer of sweat coats his brow.
Maybe Michael is right. West needs medical attention, and the only way he’s going to get it is if we drop him off at the hospital.
But the thought of abandoning him makes my heart squeeze.
If we leave him by himself, there’s no telling what might happen.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, so soft and tired. He manages to open his eyes a crack, looking up at me with a weary smile. “I’ll be okay, mon ange. Trust me.”
“Stop saying that. The last time you said that you got shot!”
I don’t realize I’m trembling until Lily places her hand on my shoulder. She looks deep into my eyes and nods, a silent conversation passing between us. Nothing needs to be said. Her reassurance is enough that I begin to mimic her nod.
“Okay,” I murmur. “Can we evade the police long enough to get him to the emergency room?”
“I think I can give us a minute’s head start,” Michael says behind the wheel.
I take a deep breath. “Then a minute will have to do.”
H?pital Pasteur. I wish I could say it was a sight for sore eyes. Never in a million years did I think we’d end up coming back here.
As a team, we move with the utmost efficiency.
Michael drives the car straight up to the emergency room entryway.
Allistair is out the door in a flash, racing toward the inner vestibule to grab something for West to sit on.
Lily, Diana and I pull West out of the back seat, setting him down on the complimentary wheelchair that Allistair returns with.
A handful of hospital employees gawk at us, already stepping forward to investigate. The sirens aren’t that far behind us.
“Plus vite!” Michael yells from inside the car.
By some miracle, West has enough energy to remain upright. “Go,” he urges, voice hoarse.
I caress his cheek. “If you die on me, I’ll kill you.”
West chuckles, only to wince from the effort. “Yes, ma’am.”
I plant a kiss on his forehead before peeling away, climbing back into the car in a hurry. We race off just as a few ER nurses rush out, immediately attending to West with looks of great concern. Hopefully none of them get a good look at our faces.
Just like that, we’re back on the road, our momentary pit stop barely slowing us down. It feels like all of Nice is after us. Weaving in and out of traffic, we’ve turned the city into an obstacle course.
“We can’t keep this up much longer,” Michael says, his grip on the steering wheel knuckle-white. “They’re going to catch us sooner or later.”
“Or we’ll run out of gas,” Lily adds.
“Damn this traffic!” Diana grumbles.
An idea suddenly pops into my head. The answer has been staring us in the face the entire time.
“Hang on,” I say, grabbing my laptop from the car floor.
“What are you doing?” Lily asks.
“Giving us a straightaway,” I reply, hacking into the city’s traffic-control system.
It’s a little startling how easy it is. Someone in their cybersecurity department needs to be fired asap.
It takes me two attempts to crack through their firewall.
The second I’m inside, I change all the lights ahead of us to green.
If a city’s roads are its veins and arteries, I officially have control of its pulse.
Lily gawks at me, equal parts horrified and amazed. “Holy shit.”
“They’re still on our tail,” Allistair says, peering out the window.
“Not for long,” I reply, making an absolute mess of the signal rotations with just a few lines of injected code.
Drivers turn left, right, and start straight ahead, only to slam on their brakes. Confusion floods the streets. Everyone starts honking at everyone. Our pursuers are trapped behind the congestion, growing smaller in our rearview mirror as we leave the chaos behind.
We’re in the clear.
But our business is far from finished.