Finding Honor

Prologue

“Keep your eyes open for a water tank on the left side,” I told Tom. “That’s the turn off.” On into the night we drove; our thoughts fixed on Canadian soil.
There were only a few vehicles on the road. I could see dim taillights in front of us and a set of headlights behind, but mostly it was just the puny beam of our own headlights in the dark night. It was quiet inside the car with the windows closed and Gina and the baby asleep in the back seat - only the steady purr of the motor. As the miles swept by, my confidence grew that we would get through this night. For sure, our lives hung in the balance.
Then, suddenly, a flash in the rear view mirror caught my eye. Two, three, four…red lights, Police! A chill ran up my spine. All my senses jumped on a tightrope.
“They’re gaining on us!” I glanced over at Tom and saw fear in his eyes.
“We can’t stop now,” he said.
“Yeah, no …” I breathed.
Time slowed. I stared intently into the blackness. Where is the tank? Judging by the odometer reading, we should be at the turn off any second. The cops were closing the distance. I threw a glance at Tom and accelerated - the big V-eight engine roared and the Galaxy surged to ninety. I stole a glance in the rear view mirror.
“They’ve gained on us,” I said.
“Pour it on, man,” replied Tom as he, too, looked back.
I took the car up to one hundred. The rotating red police lights reflected brightly off the beige interior of our car. I forced down the urge to panic.
“They’re closing in on us!” Tom shouted.
I glanced at Tom and could see the red flashes reflected off the sweat on his forehead.
Then we heard the strident wail of sirens. My heart pounded like a jackhammer; I stomped the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The speedometer arced to one ten and in a few more seconds passed one fifteen. The big car accelerated as I bore down on that pedal for all I was worth. How fast would this thing go?
We held our own. I don’t think the police expected us to go this fast. The big V-eight thundered like a high-performance aircraft on take-off.
“Shit Tom,” I yelled. “That tank’s gotta’ be comin’ up any second now!”
“How big is the tank,” asked Tom.
“I don’t know… big, a water tank.”
The Ford Galaxy was giving it all it had as our speed inched up to one twenty.
“Fuckin A’ man, we’re pullin’ away,” Tom said.
Our speed hovered at the max line of one twenty. We roared down the road. And, while we had begun to pull away from the cops, I knew with biting urgency that we were in danger of missing our turnoff. If we missed it, there would be no hope of eluding the authorities; it could only be another few miles to the border check point and certain capture.