First came the screaming.

It was slow at first, a reaction from a passing woman, but then the reality of what had happened set in. The officer Kit had been talking dropped like a stone, throwing the paper onto the floor. Blood pulsed out of his chest. It pooled on his shirt and the concrete floor around him. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a thin trickle of flood that dribbled down his chin.

His partner, shocked by the shot, looked past Kit with wide-eyes. Kit turned. Emily stood beside the car with the gun in hand. The towel it had been wrapped in lay abandoned on the seat where it had been thrown, and a thin stream of smoke drifted up from the gun's barrel. Her face froze in horror, but Kit watched her squeeze the trigger again.

A second shot.

He turned in time to watch the second officer drop like the first, his head smacking the concert where he lay, no longer moving. The screaming grew louder. People who had been walking down the street scattered like mice, their eyes glued to Emily and the smoking gun. Kit stared at the bodies of the two officers, blood spreading across the ground.

Second came the panic.

"We need to go." His voice shook when he spoke, willing up the courage to pull his eyes away from the two bleeding officers and towards Emily. "Now."

"I know."

"Get in the motorcar."

Emily nodded, still holding the gun. She scrambled inside and placed it on her lap, her entire body shaking like a tree in a winter storm. Kit joined her. He was glad he had left the engine running and within seconds they were pulling away from the curb and merging with the Ford cars driving through the city.

Neither of them spoke. Even if he wanted to, Kit wasn't sure he'd even be able to find the words. When he left Rob's place, he never thought he would be driving away from a murder scene. He never thought he would pull the trigger, but the idea of Emily going through with it was as though he had stepped out of a dream.

"We need somewhere to lie low. They'll have everyone out looking for us after that," he said.

"I shot them."

"Do you have any ideas about where we can go?"

"I can't believe I just shot them."

"Emily!" Kit yelled, louder than he intended to. He startled her just enough to bring her out of wherever she had gone, but she kept the gun in her hand. "Do you know of anywhere we can go? Somewhere we can hide the car?"

"There is somewhere. His father was an old family friend, and he said he owed me."

"What if he tells your father we're with him?"

Emily shook her head. "He won't. He doesn't like him much, either."

"You'll have to direct me."

"Kit?" Emily looked at him, her eyes surprisingly dry despite her previous hysterics. "Do you think they're dead?"

"I don't know."

He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted to focus on was getting away from the scene and finding a safe place to hold up, at least for a little bit. After that, they needed to find another way out of the city. Whatever plan they had before would have to be abandoned with the papers gone and the dent giving them away to any officer they came across.

Stupid. He was so stupid.

Kit slammed his hands against the steering wheel, yelling in frustration at his own stupidity. Emily looked at him. She held onto the gun as though she were waiting to use it again. Her hysterics had disappeared and Kit was surprised by the stone cold look on her face despite what she'd done. He wasn't sure he'd be as calm as she was, but he reasoned it was more to do with shock. Once the truth set in, it would be a whole other story.

Whatever they did next, Kit knew he would have to leave the motorcar behind. He couldn't risk being stopped and having someone else find that dent or having to resort to using the gun again. His dream motorcar had been the thing to push them to something he'd never been a part of before. If not for that dent.

"Take a left," Emily said. "We're almost there."

"You seriously think this guy will cover for us? He'll know about the money your father put on my head and know I took his motorcar. Heck, he might even think I kidnapped you."

"He won't. Matthew knows how much I hated being in the same house as him. He knew I would have done anything to get out. If I'd made the escape myself, his house would have been the first place I went to. He'll be fine with it."

"Will he help us get away? We're going to need to ditch the car and find another way out of here."

"I know he will."

Kit continued to follow her directions through one of London's more wealthier areas. The houses were large, with parking spaces to the side of them and large green hedges. It was an area of the city he'd never been to before, at least not by choice. They were the sort of houses he liked the sound of breaking into so that he could take whatever valuables they kept out in the open. He never thought he'd be asking someone who lived in one for any sort of help.

He pulled the motorcar around the side of one of the houses; a large brick building with black framed windows and a shiny brass door knocker. Kit hoped the police wouldn't see the Rolls Royce and immediately asked questions. It looked more like it belonged alongside the house than it did anywhere else. So long as no one saw the dent in the front, they wouldn't ask questions.

Emily climbed out of the car with the gun still in hand, almost as though she didn't want to put it down. Her face remained the same cold, emotionless state it had been in on the drive to the house. Kit followed her up the gravel and towards the front door, where she seized the brass knocker and rapped it three times against the wood.

The door swung open to reveal a short, dark-haired man with thick-rimmed glasses. He looked at Emily and frowned, but his eyes widened only seconds later. Whether he saw the gun, Kit didn't know.

"Emily?"

"We need somewhere to hide. Will you help?"

The man, Matthew, looked at Kit with a questioning gaze and nodded his head, opening the door that little bit wider and gesturing them inside.

~~~

First Published - February 7th, 2024