The only question was what to do about it.
He looked to Martinez and saw that the other man felt exactly the same way.
“I don’t think we’re going to stop this guy with bullets.”
“I don’t think we’re gonna stop him at all, but I’m not letting him get away with that shit.” Martinez was practically screaming, but Williamson could just make out the words.
“I’m gonna run his ass down.”
Martinez nodded.
The local cop said something, but he couldn’t make out the words. Williamson called out for him to repeat himself, but the man looked away to where the murdering fuck he’d tried to cuff was standing on the lawn and looking like he was having the best time he’d ever had outside of sex.
He climbed over the remains of his friend and back into his car. The engine had stalled thanks to the lightning, but it started up just fine. He didn’t bother with seatbelts or any of his usual precautions; he just aimed the cruiser and gunned the engine. The engine roared and the tires screamed and the car just barely missed hitting a fire engine as he drove over the curb and through the stream of the fire hydrant that was spraying down the neighborhood.
Behind him, Martinez was already rolling, gathering speed. The grass was soaked through and the car slewed sideways, sending up a thick wave of ruined lawn and mud before the tires caught properly.
Then he was moving and fast, gathering a proper head of steam as he aimed the cruiser at the sick bastard who claimed he’d caused all of the devastation.
The two local cops fired repeatedly at their target and Jason Soulis took a staggering step backward as his chest exploded. The smile was gone from his face, and he was falling to the ground. All the better.
Williamson compensated for the change in position and ran over the man. The car shuddered and jumped as it hit the prone form, and Williamson made sure to gun the engine even more. He felt the tires sliding through bone and gristle as he rocketed over the body.
Martinez was next and he aimed well and true, the front tires rolling straight for the man’s head and legs.
He was watching in the rearview mirror when the other trooper’s car slammed to a complete halt. He was still watching, stupefied, as the vehicle was thrown through the air, rolling end over end until it crashed into the closest fire engine.
The crushed, bloodied body of Jason Soulis stood up. His ribs were caved in and he still had a massive hole in his chest, but the freak was standing up.
Williamson hit the brakes, switched into reverse and started backing toward the thing that was now looking at the two local cops. He gained speed, swerving slightly as he adjusted to backward driving, and made sure his aim was as perfect as possible.
Soulis turned his way and braced his body. The car hit, the rear end crumpling inward and the rear window exploding on impact. Williamson was flung backward and then forward in his seat. His head slammed into the steering wheel and the air bag deployed, punching him in the face at high velocity.
As soon as it had done its job, the cushion began to deflate and Williamson helped it along, terrified. Nothing should have been able to stop a fucking car like that! Nothing!
He climbed out as the thing behind him lunged, driving hands through the roof of the car in an effort to reach him.
Soulis snarled, his face as far from human as it could be while sharing the same basic features. He looked at the man in absolute terror, his mind taking in the details and then refusing to acknowledge what he was seeing. The wounds were gone. The man’s clothing had been blasted apart, and tire tracks were clearly visible, but the white skin underneath was perfectly fine, unmarred and supported by what was obviously a whole ribcage.
He was still trying to work that out in his head when Soulis grabbed hold of him.
III
Pee Wee was screaming, and Danny was, too. Jayce was crying, and Boyd was pretty sure he had a few tears coming from his own eyes, but he couldn’t tell anymore. There was too much going on and no time to take it all in.
Jason Soulis held the state trooper up by one hand and climbed off the wreckage of the police car. He was grinning ear to ear now, and walking toward Boyd and Danny with absolute confidence in his abilities.
Williamson was thrashing like a freshly hooked carp and making faces that came pretty close to matching a fish’s expressions at that moment. Soulis walked closer and stopped five feet away.
“How much is he worth to you, Detective?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he can live or die depending on what you say.”
Boyd had his weapon aimed at the man. He wasn’t stupid.
“What? I’m supposed to trade you for him?”
“Something like that.”
“He’s a cop. He knew the risks.”
Williamson was still looking ready to jump out of his own skin, but he was also reaching for his service revolver. God love him.
“You can still walk away from this. I genuinely like you.”
