Grace and Christie followed their target to the old hospital outside of Galva Township. The old hospital outside of Galva Township was shut down after the fire in ‘97, see with the Hammond-Henry Hospital up in Geneseo there was no longer much need for it so it wasn’t worth the cost to rebuild. In 2019, a project was started to tear down some of the old hospital outside of Galva Township and renovate the rest as a physical therapy center, but the project stalled in 2021, leaving it half a burned down mess, a quarter new office space, and a quarter a bunch of plastic hanging around partial construction.
Moments after Grace and Christie pulled into the parking lot of the old Galva hospital, several beams of light started cutting around the side of the building back at them. People talk about being afraid of the dark, because they don’t know what’s out there, but you know what’s really scary? A light in the darkness that you weren’t expecting. Because that means you do know what’s out there – someone. Next time you’re roaming around in the woods at night, imagine a flashlight beam suddenly coming on and tell me you wouldn’t be chilled to the bone.
Three cars came out from behind the old hospital – a 2016 Chevy Spark, a 2011 Lincoln Town Car, and a 2015 Chevy Cruise. You see, following someone isn’t like they make it seem in the movies. It’s pretty easy to pick up on a single car following you alone, especially at night. The rule of thumb is that to successfully tail someone, you need at least four cars, and preferably a lot more, that are in constant contact with each other. It’s a real undertaking it is. The old guy in the Palisade had called ahead and led them into a trap I’m saying.
While the target car ambled away, two of the newcomers tried to box in the Malibu while the Lincoln maneuvered for a ramming action. As the Town Car accelerated, Christie yanked the wheel one way while simultaneously Grace reached/kicked her leg across the center console and stomped on his foot, trying for the gas, sending them into a wild spin that clipped the front of the Spark and sent it bouncing away like an excited puppy rebounding off the wall.
Spittle flew from Christie’s lips as he shouted and turned the wheel wildly back and forth exactly the way you’re not supposed to when you’re in a skid “The glove box, the glove box!”
Rocking wildly from the motion of the lurching Malibu, Grace ripped open the glove box and a small revolver fell out into her lap “What the hell do you want me to do with this?!”
Grace tossed the gun in the backseat “Fuck that.”
Grace tried to stop one of the attacking vehicles with her malfunction spell, but the Malibu was careening so wildly and there were so many Pepsi/pee bottles and other assorted garbage flying around that she couldn’t concentrate and the spell kept fizzling. She yelled at Christie to keep the car steady but then realized that he was no longer driving the car because he was hanging ass over the seat trying to grab the gun she chucked. Grace desperately lunged across and grabbed the wheel. With much cursing and screaming and flailing of legs, Grace managed to dislodge Christie off the back of the seat and get control of the car – a split second before it thundered into an old light pole.
Grace slammed into the steering column, which wasn’t so bad, but Christie slammed ass frontward into the back of her head and sandwiched her against the wheel, which was bad. A full second after the car had come to a stop, the airbag punched her in the face and shattered her nose. Two seconds after that, the Town Car and the Cruise slammed into each other behind them in their attempts to pursue. Anyone watching four cars driven by people with zero training and zero belting around the parking lot like they were in Fast & Furious 12 would have been amused – the term pigs on ice comes to mind. But it was no less serious for how silly it all was. Serious silly they call that.
While Grace used her healing spell on her broken sternum, Christie found his pistol, and still hanging upside down on the seat promptly fired off all six shots. Three into the roof of the car, one taking out a piece of his own ear, and two into the back seat. The Spark had lined itself up for a ramming attempt, but Grace was back in action and blinded the driver with her light spell. Since he was already on target, all the driver of the Spark would have had to do is keep a grip on the wheel and floor it to smash into the Malibu, but he wasn’t so steely as all that. An even better option would have been to do nothing, just sit there until the stars clear from your eyes. This fellow went his own way though, slamming down the gas pedal and jerking the wheel to the left for no apparent reason.
As the Spark roared away to smash into the re-built front of the old hospital, Grace stepped out of the Malibu and cast her armor spell. The Town Car had backed off and was coming around for another pass and Grace ran towards it. As the Town Car straightened out and started roaring her way, she leapt and tucked and smashed through the windshield into the driver like a cannonball. It was pretty fucking cool. The already punctured airbag deployed with a mournful puffing sound as Grace dragged the passenger out of the car through the windshield hole her body had created and onto the hood. She stood there with the man by the shirt-front like a big damn hero.
Grace watched as Christie fell/rolled/staggered out of the backseat of the Malibu clutching his bleeding ear with one hand and waving his empty revolver around with the other. She watched also as the Cruise and the Palisade slowly circled around the hospital and out of the parking lot and to the road and onto highway 34.
“Well . . . . shit.” Grace remarked to no one.
like a butt-first torpedo
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