Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) (31 page)

Within minutes Joe and their train of five vehicles had caught up to the other six patrol cars. The S.W.A.T. van motors made an awful screaming noise straining to keep up. The patrol cars, modified for high speed, were barely straining. The train of cars merged with highway seventy nine with two seventy nine, heading north away from the city. Joe was relieved to see they would not have to coordinate ad-hoc road blocks into downtown on a work morning. The press would eat them alive and the paper work would have gone into the following year. Joe and Bryce looked at each other, obviously each was having the same welcome thought.

 

Itishree looked back over her shoulder and saw a riot of flashing lights. The sirens could be clearly heard through the rolled up windows of their rental sedan. She said nothing but looked over at Griffin.

When they had left the hotel parking lot she and Griffin had discussed Griffin speeding, but not to speed too much. Neither wanted to lose their lives, taking a chance of crashing, and ruining their mission. Griffin looked in his rearview mirror almost as much as he look forward. They were doing eighty miles an hour. It wasn't long before the police cars were nearly on top of them.

Griffin took the exit ramp to catch the east bound lanes of highway three seventy six. There would be even less cars on this connector section between major inlets of traffic. He knew traffic would begin to clog these roads in another hour.

“This is going to get ugly,” he said.

Itishree wondered on his expression. She turned looking behind them. The patrol cars were closing. Maybe two hundred meters and quickly catching. One hundred fifty meters. Then fifty meters. The light from the combined headlights was blinding. She couldn't make out any detail. Chasing them was a screaming wall of bright lights.

But now the police vehicles stopped advancing. The stayed back, three abreast, with their high beams lit.

“They have stopped getting closer,” she said.

Griffin checked his mirrors several more times before agreeing with her. “They are either waiting for something or something is waiting for us just ahead.”

Itishree's attention went back to the road ahead.

 

Then Joe realized where they had to be going. Highway seventy nine didn't connect with two seventy nine southbound. The path they were taking was headed for the Pennsylvania turnpike.

“Bryce, if you were a fugitive and had just purchased enough clothes and equipment for weeks of travel, what would your travel options be from here?” Joe asked.

“Sir, the airport was the opposite direction two highways ago. The train station is downtown. If you wanted to drive yourself, the PA turnpike is just ahead, maybe five miles.” Bryce said.

“Must be the turnpike,” Joe said. He made a head nod towards the radio in Bryce's hand. “See if there is time to have cars block the exit to the turnpike.”

Bryce made busy with the handheld while Joe pondered his next options. They were in a rolling chase, not at terribly high speed, suspects were almost contained.

“Two cars will pass the suspects and continue on to the turnpike exit at high speed,” Bryce said.

“Good,” Joe said stealing a glance at Bryce.

Two patrol cars peeled off and launched down the left lane. They shot past DeLuca and were ahead in moments. Then, DeLuca took the next exit at high speed.

Joe and Bryce fumbled for the radio. Joe gave up as Bryce's thumb found the mic key. Far ahead twin sets of break lights danced and swerved. The patrol cars slowed searching for an avenue to cross the median. Joe followed the patrol cars still chasing DeLuca. The rental had made a reckless left and was cross the overpass. They were now a conga line of lights. Joe made the left. He was five cars behind DeLuca.

“There’s nothing down here,” Bryce said. “Endless subdivisions and shopping plazas.”

As if on cue DeLuca made a side-ways left making for the exit ramp south bound to two seventy nine.

“Shit, they're heading back into the city?” Joe asked Bryce, or no one.

“Or back to the airport?” Bryce asked.

At the bottom of the ramp everyone pickup up the pace, back to eighty miles per hour. The parade continued just as before.

“Can anyone see activity in the suspect vehicle?” Bryce asked into the radio.

“Nothing. No sign of activity,” the radio replied.

“Why the U-turn?” Joe asked Bryce.

True Panic

 

“Should we pull over and let me drive?” Itishree asked with a smile.

“All right, all right. I was a little lost. I don't come this way often,” Griffin said. He was also blushing. He could laugh at the absurdity. He knew if a helicopter was overhead they would make the local police blotter vids for the evening news.

He checked his mirrors again and saw the patrol cars were keeping their distance as before. The two cars that had passed them had rejoined the pack. What made Griffin curious were the two dark delivery trucks behind the cars. News crew? Camera vehicles? It was difficult to make out details of the large vans from the darkness and the flashing LEDs of the cop cars.

And then it hit Griffin. S.W.A.T trucks he realized. That suited jackass had called the cop military. With the thought Gabriel came to life within his mind.

“I will intervene,” the Archangel said.

Griffin didn't like those words. The last thing he wanted was a spectacle. But after checking his mirrors for the bah-jillionth time, he had a spectacle. He was the spectacle. It was taking all of his effort to concentrate on driving, checking on Itishree, and imagining how they were going to get to the train station with eight or nine vehicles in tow. All bent on stopping him or worse.

Griffin was hurtling down I279 now at over eighty five miles an hour. They just blew past the Camp Horn Road exit. Two cars were coming up the entry ramp. Each made sharp decelerations seeing the blue, red, and yellow lights dancing in circles around the valley. A single siren waled, warning other traffic of the comet of metal coming down the freeway. The siren continued to scream.

Griffin knew downtown was only moments away. The police and Agent Joe were going to have to do something, and soon, if they wanted to stop Griffin. He found himself looking behind the rental car more than forward. Griffin piloted the car past the high occupancy lane entrance. His attention swung forward now as the freeway began a sweeping downhill left. Griffin could feel the car under him struggle for traction. Tires squealed behind him.

With an explosive glow of blue-white light Gabriel ripped himself from Griffin's body flying backwards over the back seats and out the rear glass. The action made Griffin gasp. Part of his control of the car was Gabriel's and suddenly he found himself one hundred percent at the wheel. The rental swerved to miss a slower car. Their car chase was meeting morning traffic.

Itishree spun as Gabriel had shot from the car. Griffin saw her mouth was wide open but couldn't make sense of the sound coming from her. He couldn't afford to check his mirrors. Traffic was coming too fast now and he had to recall the exit closest to the train station.

Behind them Gabriel created a heavy gravity wave beneath his form. Spreading his wings, the field grew wide covering half of the lanes to either side. Gabriel flew low as the first patrol car was under his wings in a flash of swift motion. The force and speed of Gabriel and the trailing gravity wave crushed the patrol car like a giant rolling pin. The headlights and grill blew out with a shower of glass and metal. The hood wrapped around the engine ripping all mechanical extensions from the motor block. The alternator bounced off the pavement and shot into the air. The force met the passenger compartment and crushed the roof around the headrests of the seats. The officers inside were pulverized from the waist up. Their blood, and worse, exploded left and right before the roof was friction welded to the doors. The tires made concussive reports. When the bare metals of the wheels and underside of the car hit the asphalt an arc of sparks shot across the freeway.

Gabriel never slowed. He crushed the next police cruiser, and the next. The crushed patrol cars crunched into the concrete jersey barrier as highly compressed slabs of mixed metals.

The remaining police cars impacted the pavement in the same way. The drivers had a few seconds to react but their forward speed was too high and the gravity wave too wide. Pancaked metal crashed into concrete barrier on either side of the the freeway. Two flipped over. Heaps of steel were dancing across all southbound lanes.

Gabriel jinked to his left when he crossed over Joe's plane marked car. Bryce was smashed. His upper body liquified. The seat upright smashed into the rear floorboard. Joe's left arm and head were hammered by the roof and trapped in what used to be his driver side window. The glass vaporized when Joe was thrown at his door. The S.W.A.T. heavy van, loaded with assault forces, crashed into Joe's car. The veer Gabriel took punched into the first of the S.W.A.T. vans tossing it over onto its side. It pirouetted like a massive grinder chewing into the highway. The second S.W.A.T. van, loaded down with weapons, tools, and gear drove into the underbelly of the first van. The two spun together and each imploded as they hit the side barrier. The last crashing sounds were of the toolbox lacerating the length of the equipment van and crashing into the hillside thirty meters away.

“May God have mercy,” Itishree said. She had remained turned in her seat, witnessing most of the destruction.

Griffin never slowed. The rental crossed the river and disappeared under the canopy of tall office buildings.

Escape

 

Griffin stuffed the rental car down Strawberry Way, an alley two blocks from the Amtrak station. The alley was dark and lifeless. Perfect. He got out of the car, pulling the trunk latch, and walked around to the rear of the car. Carefully he checked Grant Street for any sign of... Griffin sighed. He had no idea what he was guarding against or why he was afraid. Regardless, there was little movement.

He faced the trunk which held their two large duffle bags and two backpacks. Going through the motion of emptying the compartment, Griffin noticed Itishree was still seated in the car. Neither he nor Itishree had spoken since the chasing police had disappeared in a metal tsunami of sparks and wrenching sounds.

As gently as Griffin could manage he opened her car door and squatted down. Small tremors took her for a moment. Some form of shock, Griffin guessed.

She turned her head, recognizing him, and her thousand yard stare vanished. He stroked her hair and down across her cheek. Seeing Itishree like this pained Griffin. A helpless feeling entangled his spine. The morning's events had shaken him too but Itishree was a mess.

“Gabriel hurt those people,” She said. Another tremor racked her body.

“I know,” Griffin said. “But we can't help them now. We have to catch the train.”

Griffin lightly pulled Itishree from the car and propped her on unsteady legs.

“Okay” was all she said. Griffin left the keys in the rental, still parked in the alley. In ten minutes they had made the station. Minutes later Itishree and Griffin processed through and were sitting outside under a covered bench. The silence between and around them was as thick as the morning humidity.

Griffin had sat first looking north. Itishree sat next to him but on the other side of the bench and facing south. Pinpricks of light began to appear and dance around them. Itishree saw them first. She stood abruptly and let slip a slight sound between a whimper and a squeal. This brought Griffin to his feet and out of his funk. In a second Griffin knew the lights were yet another dramatic entrance of the Archangel.

The lights grew in number and began to move away from them both. Twenty yards away the blimps of light began to swirl and form. Gabriel stepped from and consumed the lights with the same motion. There was a blur as Gabriel rejoined Griffin. Itishree took a step backward and brought her hands up in a defensive posture.

Griffin turned and examined Itishree. She took another step. To the Archangel she looked like she would break and run.

“I’m deeply sorry, Itishree,” Gabriel said through Griffin.

That was the tipping point. Itishree squealed and covered her mouth. Tears sprang and she looked away. Griffin allowed Gabriel to take him over completely. He was way out of his element here. From the vibes he was getting from Gabriel he knew the Archangel's intentions were spot on.

“Itishree, it is regrettable you saw me dispatch those people. You should not have had to witness such violence.”

“Did you hurt all of those people? Did you kill them?” Itishree asked. She was still looking away.

“Once I knew their intention, I acted,” Gabriel said.

“And you had to smash them like that?” She had turned to face Griffin and Gabriel.

“Yes. You must speak before the United Nations general assembly tomorrow.”

“WHAT?” Itishree spat.

“What the hell?” Griffin protested.

Gabriel removed himself from Griffin and coalesced to face Itishree where she stood. He held out a hand and Itishree tentatively took the translucent gesture. Griffin was left to deal with the sudden lack of balance.

Through his touch Gabriel said, “There are and will be times that I must act to protect you and Griffin. Those men were going to do more than detain us. They meant to harm you two. Their thoughts were sinister and beyond. Exposure to my cataclysmic self isn't what I wanted you to see. Either of you. But I must ensure your safety.”

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