Chapter 4 - The Rain and the Road
The mountain road winding down toward the coast of southern France was treacherous even in broad daylight. In the middle of a torrential downpour, with two armored sedans closing in from behind, it was a death trap.
The rain beat against the cracked windshield like handfuls of gravel. Elias pushed the SUV past ninety miles per hour, the tires screaming for traction on every sharp hairpin turn.
Behind them, the lead chase car pulled up alongside their rear bumper. A window rolled down, and the barrel of an assault rifle poked through the gap.
"Down!" Elias shouted, yanking the steering wheel hard to the right.
The heavy SUV slammed sideways into the pursuer's front quarter panel. Metal crunched against metal with a deafening screech, sparks illuminating the dark forest around them. The enemy sedan wobbled, its tires catching the muddy shoulder, before spinning out of control and careening into the rocky ditch.
"One down," Elias grunted.
"There's another one!" Saraphina yelled, peering into the side mirror. "Coming up on the left!"
She wasn't cowering anymore. The raw panic that had gripped her in the cell had transformed into a hyper-focused adrenaline rush. Her knuckles were white around the grip of the pistol Elias had handed her.
"Open the window," she said suddenly.
Elias glanced at her, stunned. "What?"
"Roll down my window! They're aiming for your front tire!"
Before Elias could argue, the second sedan surged forward, attempting to execute a PIT maneuver to send them flying over the cliffside barrier.
Saraphina didn't wait for permission. She tapped the window switch, lowered the thick glass four inches, and leaned out just enough to align her sights.
The wind and rain whipped her braided hair wildly around her face. Her hazel eyes narrowed, tracking the chasing vehicle through the darkness. It was as if another person had taken control of her body—someone colder, faster, and lethal.
*Three breaths. Find the center.* A phantom voice echoed in her mind.
She fired three rapid shots.
The first cracked against the pursuer’s hood. The second shattered the driver's side headlight. The third punched directly through the driver's side window.
The sedan veered violently to the left, smashed through the rusted guardrail, and plunged into the pitch-black ravine below. Seconds later, a dull boom echoed up the cliff as the car exploded on the rocks below.
Saraphina rolled the window up. She slid back down into her seat, her chest heaving, the warm barrel of the gun smoking in her hands.
The silence inside the cabin was suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic sweeping of the windshield wipers.
Elias didn't say a word. He drove with calculated precision, navigating the remaining curves until the mountain pass opened up into the dark, rolling hills of the French countryside. He checked his rearview mirror constantly, but the road behind them was completely empty.
Finally, after fifteen minutes of driving through the deluge, Elias pulled the SUV into a hidden gravel turnoff obscured by overgrown pine trees. He killed the headlights, plunging them into near-total darkness.
He turned in his seat to face her.
"You shot through the A-pillar gap while moving at eighty miles an hour in the rain," Elias said, his voice deadly quiet. "Military snipers miss that shot half the time."
Saraphina was staring at her hands. The gun slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the floor mat. She was trembling uncontrollably, her teeth chattering so hard she could barely speak.
"I... I don't know who I am," she whispered, her voice breaking into a dry sob. "Elias, I swear to God, I don't know who I am."
The cold, ruthless persona she had displayed seconds ago was gone, replaced once again by the terrified young woman who spent her afternoons singing lullabies to a little boy.
Elias looked at her trembling hands. For the first time in ten years, he felt something thaw inside his chest. He reached over, picked up a clean micro-fiber cloth from the glove compartment, and gently pressed it against her wet cheek, wiping away the mixture of rain and tears.
"Your name isn't Saraphina Hayes," Elias said quietly.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes glistening in the faint green glow of the dashboard. "Then who am I?"
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"I don't know yet," Elias replied, his thumb lingering for a fraction of a second against her skin before he pulled back. "But the people who tried to kill us tonight know. And we're going to make them talk."
***
