Chapter 5 - Out of the Frying Pan
""Get down on the floorboard!"" Jonas commanded, shoving Arthur into the extended cab behind the front seats before throwing Maya toward the footwell. He slammed the truck door shut, leaped behind the wheel, and engaged the ignition. The old combustion engine roared to life with a visceral, mechanical shudder that rattled the dashboard.
Maya curled into a tight ball beneath the glove compartment, the cold plastic of the half-empty water bottle still clutched tightly in her arms. Beside her, her grandfather lay curled on the bench seat, breathing heavily, his hand weakly searching the air until it brushed against her hair. ""I'm here, Grandpa. I'm right here,"" she whispered, leaning into his touch.
Outside, the harsh sound of amplified bullhorns sliced through the engine noise. ""Vehicle license Delta-Nine, cease movement immediately. You are interfering with private property reclamation.""
Jonas didn't answer. He slammed the transmission into reverse, flooring the pedal. The pickup rocketed backward, its heavy steel bumper colliding with the front grille of the lead black SUV with a sickening crunch of crumpling fiberglass and shattered headlights. The shockwave tossed Maya against the underside of the dashboard, but she didn't cry out.
With a rapid twist of the steering wheel, Jonas swung the truck around, shifted into first gear, and mounted the pedestrian curb, flattening a row of ornamental shrubs before blowing through the rear service exit of the shopping complex. A metallic bang rang out against the tailgate—a non-lethal tracking projectile striking the steel frame.
""They tagged us,"" Jonas muttered, checking his side mirrors with practiced calm as he accelerated down an industrial access road. ""Electromagnetic transponder on the rear panel. We have about eight minutes before their aerial drones triangulate our vector.""
Maya sat up slowly, peering through the rear window. A sleek, four-rotor drone had already cleared the roof of the strip mall, rising into the hazy sky like an obsidian wasp, its optical sensor glinting red in the glare of the noon sun.
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""Where are we going?"" Maya asked, her voice trembling. ""We have a house on Third Street. We need to go home. Grandpa needs his real medicine.""
Jonas looked at her through the rearview mirror, his face grim. ""Kid, you don't have a house on Third Street anymore. The moment Derrick flagged your file, your residential lease was voided by the utility board. If you go back there, you're walking straight into an intake cell.""
