Little Girl Gone - By Battles, Brett Page 0,35

freeway sound wall, and would reach them before they got to the new freeway. Having no choice, Logan swung his car to the shoulder, too.

“What are you doing?” Angie asked.

He nodded toward the back window, and let her figure it out herself.

The drivers in the cars they were passing didn’t look particularly happy that Logan had created his own lane. A couple of them honked, then one jerk pulled his car partially onto the shoulder in an attempt to block their way. His act of protest was ill timed, though. The sound wall that had butted up against the edge of the shoulder ended a few seconds after he crossed over, and was replaced by a landscaped slope. Logan didn’t even slow down as he veered the El Camino onto the hill, and went around the blocking car.

As the road curved to the right, the speed of the traffic began to pick up, and Logan slipped back into the regular lane. A few moments later they were on the 10.

Their pursuer was at least a dozen cars behind them now, but he was still there. Logan knew if he didn’t do something drastic, the other car was going to stick to them until they ran out of gas.

He slowed, bringing the El Camino in line speed-wise with the surrounding traffic. A quick glance back confirmed that the sedan was now gaining on them. Logan then moved to the right, until he was one lane from the slow lane.

Angie looked at him, then out the back window, then back at him again. “What are you doing? He’s going to catch us.”

Logan kept his concentration on the road, and said nothing.

“Hey! Mr. Hooper! You trying to get us killed?”

“Not planning on it,” he replied.

“Then get a move on it. He’s right back there!”

He could see her point at the sedan.

“Do it again,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Point at him. Make him think we’re worried.”

“I am worried!”

“Fine, just make sure he sees that.”

“Why?”

About a half mile ahead, Logan saw that the freeway curved to the left. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. He slowed some more, dropping below the average speed.

“Are you crazy?” Angie screamed. “He’s just a couple cars back now!”

Logan moved into the slow lane.

“Dude! What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s right there! Coming up on your side! Ah, Christ. I should have kept running.”

Logan looked into the side mirror, and could see the sedan tailgating the car in front of him, flashing his lights so that the guy would speed up or clear out of the way. Since the El Camino was to the right of the slower car, the man was forced to move to his left.

Now, with the lane ahead of him clear, the sedan jumped forward, coming up beside them, and matching their speed. Logan waited until they were almost to the curve, then snapped the wheel quickly to the left, and immediately back to the right, making it look for a moment like he was going to sideswipe the sedan.

Out of reflex, the guy chasing them jerked his car away to keep from being hit. Logan figured he would do that. Survival instinct. But all that really mattered was whether he’d planted the seed or not.

Do it, buddy. You know you want to.

They were a third of the way through the curve.

Any time now would be good.

Another few seconds passed. Then the sedan jerked toward them.

Immediately, Logan hit the brakes.

Beside him, Angie closed her eyes tight, bracing for impact. But she needn’t have bothered. The back end of the sedan passed within inches of their front bumper, but shot by without the two cars touching.

As Logan had hoped, the other guy’s momentum carried him all the way through the lane, over the shoulder and halfway onto the barren dirt beyond.

The moment the guy started to bring his sedan back onto the freeway, Logan sped up just enough to tap the front corner of his El Camino against the back corner of the sedan. As soon as they were touching, he jammed the pedal all the way down, and turned the wheel to the left.

The push caused the sedan to swing out perpendicular to the freeway. Logan pulled around him and raced away, watching in his rearview mirror as the sedan spun over the shoulder, and down a slope behind some office buildings.

He didn’t know what happened to the car after that. The only thing that mattered to him was that

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