</center><center>The Perfect Getaway</center>
Rating: ADULT.
Genre: A Suspenseful Polar Fic
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
Banner: Ain't it pretty! I only had to do it over like 20 times lol.
Summary: Forced to be on the run because of her past, Liz Parker finds herself in a situation where the only way she can get away is by forcing two complete strangers, Michael Guerin and Tony Marcos, to take her along with them. But the further they get away, the more Liz finds out that the men she's traveling with have a dark secret and the more the men find out that Liz has some secrets of her own, only hers are dark enough to get them killed.
Author's Notes: Yay! Second Polar fic for me. I know I've been terrible with the updates before for "The Broken Vow", but I finished the two fics I was dreading and now I can updated on a schedule. I will be updating this fic and "The Broken Vow" on Wednesday nights, so yay! lol. Um, this fic is gonna be like my COTT, where it's in Liz's POV but the Michael parts are gonna be 3rd person. It's a great fic, which I have mapped out start to finish and you guys are probably gonna kick my ass by the way it ends. But enough small talk, on with the fic.
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<center>Prologue</center>
<center>October 27th, 2004</center>
“Liz. Just breathe. Breathe.” I coached myself against the back wall of a rundown diner before taking in a deep breath and releasing it with my eyes closed.
Still feeling the nerves fluttering in my stomach and the sudden shake of my hands, I lowered my head to slip on a black knitted ski mask and then cock my 9mm pistol before cutting around the corner and entering into the restaurant.
I was quick…three steps around the corner, pull the door open and I was inside with my gun pointed to the ceiling before letting out a shot.
“Everybody down!”
Wait.
I know what you’re thinking.
That I’m just another flow-Joe trying to make a quick buck without actually working. That I’m screwing the little guy just to support my trigger happy gambling addiction that resulted into this hold up.
Well, I can honestly say I wish that were true…but its not.
I had a job and I have never stepped foot into a casino let alone made a bet where money was at risk.
Hell, almost a week ago, if I’d wanted to I could’ve bought this diner.
Then why do this you ask.
Is it for the rush? No.
Desperation, that’s why.
Still doesn’t make since?
Well, then I guess I have to explain just how I got to this point. How in four days, my life could go from Princess status to thief.
<center>Chapter 1</center>
<center>October 23rd, 2004 - 4 Days Ago</center>
<center>Larry’s Quick Picks Shop</center>
“Put all the cash in the bag.” I order the store clerk as I cock my gun for intimidation.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘Um, you’re still robbing people’. But it’s out of desperation as well, I swear, just bear with me.
Now where was I? Ah, yes. I remember.
“Put the cash in the bag.” I order the old store clerk as I point my gun to him. I watch him rush to load my bag up with money from the register and safe as I keep a watchful eye out the glass door as well as on the clerk.
“That’s everything.” He admits to me before holding his hands up, pushing him back I look at the emptied out register and safe and then look back to him.
He was old, maybe mid 50’s early 60’s, and wore glasses that were an inch thick. Pinned to his shirt breast pocket was a faded work tag with three letters that spelled the word ‘Jim’. Underneath his button linen short sleeve shirt, he had a stained worn out wife beater that ended right about his beer gut belly button, which revealed two things, that he was one hairy man and that he was definitely alone, which made me feel even more guiltier.
“Get down on your knees.” I order and watch as he obeys before I glance out the door again to see a man in the same gold Chevelle I saw earlier, looking around nervously as he let his engine run.
“Please don’t kill me.” I hear the clerk beg, which brings my attention back to him. Lifting my gun at shoulder level, I bring it back down hard and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of my gun. “Ugh.” He gasped before falling and lying unconscious on the floor.
It wasn’t until then that I spotted the blinking red light underneath the counter, which triggered all my senses that the police were on their way. Panicking, I spot the security monitor with the VCR underneath it and eject the tape before tossing it into my bag and rushing out the front door just as I hear a gun shot nearby.
I jump at the sound and stand frozen, thinking that maybe I didn’t hit the clerk hard enough and he woke up just in time to pull out a gun and shoot me when he saw me running out. Looking down slowly, I look at my body and see that I’m fine. Looking back behind me, I don’t see anyone and then quickly pushed the door open hearing the door jingles before I turn around the side of the Shop to my parked car, where I noticed my tires have been slashed.
“Shit!” I curse kicking the driver’s side front tire and then run my fingers through my hair in a panic. “The Chevelle.” I murmur before I move to the corner of the wall and peek out the side to see it still there. Tip toeing my way to it, I creep down the passenger side and then pop up with my gun drawn once I reach the door. “Don’t move.” I warn the driver, whose hands quickly go up in surrender when he heard the safety click back on my gun and then turned to see me. “Get out of the car.”
“I can’t.” The man answered coolly.
“I’ll shoot you.” I threaten and see that his expression still doesn’t change.
“I can’t.” He repeated more firmly and then snuck a look on his rearview mirror like he was waiting for someone.
Seeing that this man was determined to stay in his car, I look around and see that my options aren’t looking very pretty. Besides the Quick Pick, there was a pawn shop right beside it, other then that it was all dirt and heat, so I have no choice…
“Drive.” I order as I hop into the passenger seat.
“I can’t.” The man repeated like a cyborg, sneaking another look at his rearview mirror.
To me, the logic was simple. You see a gun, you fear for your life, so you obey. So either this man had a death wish or …just that, because I can’t come up with any other reason for him not following my orders.
“Let’s go!” I hear behind us. Both our heads snap back to see a dark blonde haired man, with a maroon sleeveless shirt, a baggy pair of light brown Cargo pants and Chopper glasses running to us from the pawnshop with a thick silver gun in his surgical glove wearing hands. “What the hell is this?” He questioned is shock as he spotted me in the passenger seat.
“She’s car jacking us.” The driver answered with a humored tone.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” He exhales in disbelief and then points his gun to me, pulling back the safety to make the loud arming click sound. “Lady get out of the car.”
“No.” I reply firmly as I point my gun to the driver.
“She has a gun too.” The driver informs the dirty blonde haired man without concern.
“Yeah, Joe. I can see that.” He retorted sarcastically and then looked up when a faint sound of the police siren was heard approaching. “Fuck.” He cursed before placing his hand on the side of the car and hopped inside. “Drive.”
“What? With her?”
“Just drive!” He ordered, and without further debate, the driver slammed on the gas and high tailed out of the parking lot unto the dirt road just as the police car was close enough to see. “Why the fuck are police here?”
“I don’t know, Joe. Why don’t we just pull over and ask?”
Wait, did he just call him Joe? I could’ve sworn the other one called this one Joe. Maybe its so I won’t know they’re real names? Well, if it is, one of them better add Junior to the end so I won’t get confused.
“Lose them.” The dark blonde haired Joe, I dubbed C.H.I.P.S asked as he checked the rounds of his gun and then looked behind us to see the police car almost behind us.
“What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” The driver Joe stressed as he glanced repeatedly at his rearview mirror. “I can’t believe it. 8 years in the business and it all goes to shit because of Thelma over here.”
“Hey, I’m still holding a gun here.” I threatened waving my gun about so he can acknowledge it. I might’ve well been holding a pencil.
“Lady, you better use it on him, because if you don’t shoot him, I will for being dumb enough to get car jacked.”
“Like I knew I was going to be car jacked?”
“Only shit like this can happen to you.”
“Right, it’s my fault that renegade Jane over here decided to steal a car with the driver still in it.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t even be in this raggedy piece of shit car if my tires hadn’t been slashed.” I shout as I press my back against the passenger door to keep a better eye on the both of them.
“You fucking idiot.” The CHIPS Joe cursed as he smacked the back of the driver’s head. “I told you about doing that shit. 'Don’t worry man, no one can follow us this way'.” He mumbled in a whine, which I can only assume is a poor imitation of the driver when he came up with the rock science idea of slashing people’s tires with the paranoia of someone following them.
“Fuck you, Michael.”
“You fucking idiot.”
“I don’t need your lectures right now Michael, the police are coming up pretty quick.”
“Stop using my real name you fucking retard.”
“Well, she didn’t know it was your real name until you said it was your real name, Michael.”
“Say it again. Say it again. Say my name one more time and watch me shoot you in the back of the head.”
So I guess it’s safe to assume his name is Michael.
“Go to the water mill.” Michael ordered to the driver and then looked at me. I shoot him a ‘what’ look, waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t and I can’t make out his expression behind those Chopper sunglasses.
I then turn to look at the driver when I hear the car speeding up faster, bringing my attention to the speedometer and see the bright orangish line falling clockwise into the 90’s.
He continues at that speed until we reach a rusty water mill, the type that have a huge pump on the ground behind old post that almost appears to be an abandoned mine site.
“Let’s go.” Michael orders as he hops out the back seat and then looks back when I open my car door. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Where the hell are you going?”
“With you guys.”
“The fuck you are.” The driver spits with a shocked chuckle and then continues heading towards the post.
“Wait, you can’t just leave me here.” I yell as I run around the side of the car and behind Michael.
“Lady, keep the car.”
“I don’t want the car.” I answer back and then move in front of him to keep him from walking anymore. “I can’t let them get me.”
“Join the club.” He replies in a chuckle, and like we’d been in an audio free zone for a minute, three police cars pull up from the middle of nowhere and surround us.
“Freeze!”
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