“Go faster.” Trevor yells from the back seat. He twists in his seat to peer out the back window.

“We can’t go faster or we will attract the attention of the T.G.P.D.” Daniel warns his voice tight and worried.

Angel rolls to a stop at a red light on Main. The rain has finally abated and the cloud cover is clearing. It looks to be another grey-blue day. Soon the sun will soon grace the horizon and trace its path around the city just above the water. An old woman crosses the street as the walk sign warns that she is running out of time. She glances at her mirror to see a black and white pull in behind her.

Daniel sees the look in her eyes and glances back through the tinted rear glass. “He didn’t report it. He won’t report it.” He sounds as if he is reassuring her as well as himself.

The old lady has moved aside, but the light remains stubbornly red. Angel tightens her grip on the steering wheel, locking eyes with Daniel. She taps the spot behind her ear and music assaults her eardrums. Urgency emanates from his gaze, his lips moving in an attempt to convey a message she can’t hear.

In the rearview mirror, Luke and Trevor secure their seatbelts, their faces set with determination.

Angel sees Lukes's lips moving in the mirror, “Gun it.” Luke urges from the back seat eyes wide and pleading. The lights on the police car flash once, prompting Angel to press the accelerator to the floor. The truck surges forward, tires screeching in protest, and she wrestles to keep it on course. Only as she passes beneath the light does it register that the cop was merely indicating the green light.

But it’s too late. She feels rather than hears the deep warble of the intimidating siren as the cop flips on the true sirens. She races through heavy traffic swerving left and right the Suv nearly standing up on two wheels each time she swings around another car. She flicks a glance at Daniel and sees a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. Time to dose. Her nerves are shot, and she is barely in control of the truck.

She taps a sensor on her forearm and the warmth spreads down her spine and through her veins. The world seems to slow down. Her heart thumps slower and harder. Her eyes gloss over for a moment then grab focus like an eagle on a fish. Her breathing slows and the hair on her arms stands up.

She grips the parking brake and squeezes the button with her thumb. A quick tug up and a toss of the wheel from side to side puts her rear tires into a slide. She punches the brake back down and hammers down on the gas drifting the truck around the corner. Daniel grabs the handle above the window, and she can tell he is cursing her by the look on his face. Luke looks exuberant in the back seat while Trevor's face is wrinkled up like a pug.

As the police car struggles with the turns, Angel widens the gap. She drifts to the road on the left and careens down what turns out to be an alley. She dodges a dumpster and a homeless man trying to sleep then drifts again before the cop reaches the alley to turn into it. Soon she is sliding back out onto Main Street praying that the cop didn’t catch sight of her taillights as she made her turn.

Daniel reaches over and touches behind her ear and Angel bites back an angry retort. “Drones ahead.” He points. She ducks her head down to see a pair of drones on patrol just a block up the street. She hits the brakes and looks left. She could turn left again and maybe disappear in downtown traffic. No bad idea, she could get stuck in deadlock traffic right in the midst of the towers. She imagines being tugged out of the truck with guns to her head. She looks right and sees Middletown Park. She hops the curb and drives down the sidewalk into the woods path.

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It is still dark enough in the trees it just might be enough to hide the black truck.

“This isn’t a road, Angel.” Trevor offers nervously.

“Bad idea,” Luke whines.

“Does anybody have a better idea?” Angel shouts as trees rip past her mirrors on both sides.

“Yeah, don’t try to run from Goth Police.” Daniel offers sarcastically.

Angel turns to glare at him.

“Watch out!” Trevor screams from the back seat.

Angel turns back to the windshield lifting her foot from the gas but not having time to hit the brake. A man in torn clothing is standing with his back to them looking up at the sky. She hears a sickening crack followed by the man flipping up on the hood and smashing into the glass then rolling over the top of the truck. She stomps on the brakes with both feet and opens the door to vomit.

“You hit him,” Trevor says as if she didn’t know. She has the impulse to slap him in his weird, wrinkled face.

“This isn’t good. This is not good.” Luke starts rocking in the back seat muttering to himself.

Angel wipes her mouth and sits up to look over at Daniel. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging open.

“Should we leave him?” His voice cracks. He is conflicted. She can already see the war in his soul. They have crossed so many lines tonight. Lines they have never crossed. Now two people might die, and it is her fault. They trusted her to lead, and she pushed them too far this time. Too far for even her. She no longer feels powerful at this moment. She feels reckless, dangerous, and callous. She feels as if she can’t go one more step forward and still recognize herself. She looks back at the scared faces of her friends and shame drowns her. She looks past them at the red from the brake lights illuminating the man on the sidewalk.

She slowly shifts the truck into park and shuts off the ignition killing the lights. The rush of the drug washes out of her veins and is replaced by an empty hallow feeling. It is the hardest crash she has ever felt. The images of the past hour flash through her mind again and she nearly cries.

“We have to go back and check on him,” Angel says finally. She swallows hard and climbs out of the truck first. Her mouth dries up like old cloth as she finds herself walking toward the dead body. He shouldn’t have been here. It’s not my fault. The park is closed. What was he doing here so early? He should have been home or at work. He shouldn’t have been walking through Middletown Park in the dark. Maybe he was homeless? Her guilty brain betrays her as she tries to shove aside her guilt.

Dark blood pools around the man’s head on the sidewalk and she wipes her hands on her torn jeans feeling as if her hands are covered in the man’s blood. Daniel walks up beside her, and she feels a little strength just having him there with her. She swallows again but invisible hands strangle her throat shut. She doesn’t want to speak. She doesn’t want to cry in front of Daniel. She forces her legs forward as if she is wading through sand.

Daniel stops a couple of steps back and locks eyes with Angel. She pauses. She has to know. She searches for forgiveness in Daniel’s eyes but finds only terror. The weight of her choices bears down on her, the lines she has crossed gaping like a chasm. She had an unspoken agreement with her crew. They were thieves, not murderers. She remembers to breathe and kneels down over the man in the dark.

She reaches out a trembling hand and places it on the man’s chest. An icy jolt lances through her body as she realizes she is touching her first dead body. The world begins to toss around her. She is about to faint but then the man’s chest rises. Startled she springs to her feet and stumbles back. “He’s alive.” She says with a tremble in her voice like she’s just encountered a ghost.

“He’s what?” Daniel stammers.

“He’s breathing,” Angel answers her voice hollow with awe.