Caught in the Crosshairs
'Let's see how much my stat has gone up since the workout!' Sawyer thought joyfully to himself. With a thought, the blue screen charting his physical stats materialized before his eyes.
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SYSTEM MENU
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[Name: Sawyer Knight]
[Rank: Novice
Physical Stats:
Strength: 10
Health: 3
Ability: 11
Toughness: 27
Dexterity: 6
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Sawyer's strength stat had risen by two since his intense workout session, and a gleam of satisfaction skipped across his face. Determined to seize the day, he threw on his riding gear, this time opting for a pair of rugged jeans instead of gym shorts. He hopped on his bike and left, heading towards the nearest gas station because his bike needed to be refueled. As he pulled next to pump #4 and began taking out his credit card from his wallet a trooper slowly creeped behind him with his car. Sawyer slowed his movements down as he mainly focused on the officer who was slowly circling him.
He put away his wallet and decided to ride to another gas station. Quickly, he pulled out of that hostile environment. It was his first time since owning a bike that he had been so clearly targeted, the feeling was unsettling in his gut. As he made a distance between himself and the gas station, he began to relax slightly. The landscape blurred past him as his eyes were focused on the road ahead.
His nerves started prancing along his skin as he began to sweat beneath the helmet. The events of yesterday quickly clouded his thoughts. The light ahead of him turned green, pulling him momentarily out of his reverie. He drove straight, meticulously following all traffic laws, careful to avoid any actions that might draw unwanted attention or suspicion.
Despite all this, the red and blue sirens still lit up behind him. He sighed heavily, the weight of inevitability was beginning to dawn on him. He pulled into an empty parking lot adjacent to a coffee shop.
The engine's rumble ceased, the silence quickly broken by the approaching police car. Sawyer quickly removed his gloves. With urgency, he fished out his phone from his jacket pocket. His fingers danced across the screen as he found Ezekiel's name in his contacts.
His heart pounded in his ears. He typed out a quick message to Ezekiel: "Being pulled over. Dropping location." His thumb instantly pressing the send button. The message sent, and he attached his current location to the text.
Before he could send another text, the officer's door opened, Sawyer quickly placed his phone and keys in his front Jean pocket quickly before the cop reached him. The officer approached him with cautious steps, his right hand resting easily on the holster of his gun.
"Do you mind putting the kickstand down?" the officer requested, his tone firm. Sawyer nodded, shifting the bike's weight onto the stand. "I'm Officer Voss with the Oakridge County Police," the officer introduced himself, his gaze steady on Sawyer. "Do you know why I'm pulling you over?"
Sawyer nodded no. "Your bike matches the description of a vehicle involved in an evasion incident last night. I need to call another officer down here to verify your vehicle's details and confirm whether it was involved." "And for my safety and yours, please stay off your phone," the officer added before walking off to his patrol car.
The nervousness in Sawyer started building up once again. Every cell in his body was telling him to run, that something wasn't right about the whole thing. His heart pounded in his chest. He fought to maintain his composure.
The officer, meanwhile, hopped into his patrol car and grabbed the microphone of his dispatch radio, speaking in a low tone. The crackle of the radio barely masked the urgency in his voice as he called for backup. Sawyer couldn't make out the exact words, but the seriousness of the conversation was evident.
Within minutes, the wail of another siren pierced the tense silence, and a black-and-white Tahoe, identical to the responding officer's vehicle, pulled up alongside them. For some reason to Sawyer, it felt like an ominous signal that things were about to get much more complicated.
The two officers met in front of their cars, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed tones. From where Sawyer stood, their conversation seemed almost conspiratorial. The initial officer occasionally glanced back at Sawyer, making it clear that they were discussing him.
At this point, Sawyer's back was glued to the front of his handlebar, becoming completely invested in the interaction between the two officers. The second officer handed the initial officer a yellow envelope stuffed with something, which Sawyer could only assume contained money. The exchange between the two sending an awry shiver down his spine. The second officer walked right around the first officer's car door, making a beeline towards Sawyer. The first officer's door had closed, and his lights turned off, hinting that he was about to leave the scene he had initiated.
Sawyer quickly reached into his pocket and removed his keys and gloves. With a swift motion, he inserted his key into the ignition. He pulled on his riding gloves. The officer now practically seventeen footsteps behind him, his pace quickening with every step as he saw Sawyer about to take off.
Sawyer closed his tinted visor, he could hear the officer's shouts, but they were drowned out by the throaty roar of his bike's engine. The officer, realizing what was about to happen, immediately turned and sprinted back to his patrol car. Sawyer didn't wait. He twisted the throttle, and the bike surged forward. The tires screeched against the asphalt as his rear tire slipped a bit before correcting itself.
Sawyer's 300, while not the fastest bike on the road, surged forward with all the power it could muster. The engine roared beneath him as he pushed it to its limits, the wind whipping against his body. He weaved through the traffic with skill, with every twist of the throttle, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
As he approached a line of standstill cars, Sawyer saw his chance. With a deft maneuver, he squeezed through the narrow gap between two vehicles, his bike threading the needle with an unworldly precision. Behind him, the police cars struggled to catch up at the congested light.
Sawyer's elation was short- lived. As he whipped around a corner, he found himself facing the dead end of a cul-de-sac.
Sawyer's mind raced as he weighed his options. Leaving again seemed futile—the sound of his engine would only draw more attention, and after barely losing them, he couldn't afford to risk another pursuit. He shut off the motor, the sudden silence in the cul-de-sac echoing around the confined space.
A moment of calm swooshed by Sawyer as his mind began to settle. The quiet was quickly interrupted as he looked back and noticed a table pulling at the end of the cul-de-sac blocking one path of escape off. Before Sawyer had the chance to reach for his key, another patrol car pulled in blocking off the only path of escape left. A heavy sigh left Sawyer's mouth. The two officers emerged quickly from their vehicles with guns drawn.
"Hands up now!!!" The first officer shouted aggressively. Sawyer hesitated, something about this whole encounter didn't feel right, a nagging in the back of his mind kept gnawing at him relentlessly. Sawyer's eye glanced all around him, seeking for a way out. Blinds and curtain peeked open as neighbors watched.
"Now!!!" The second officer aggressively said, at this point Sawyer placed his hands in the air, ready to surrender. The sudden loud growl of bike engines shattered the tense atmosphere echoing around the cul-de-sac.
"We got a problem…?" Vail asked, his voice dancing delicately between the lines jest and seriousness.