Anyone here know what an adrenaline rush feels like?

Probably.

But most of you haven’t felt a real adrenaline rush. Like, say, jumping off a building, climbing a mountain, trying desperately to escape from angry, semi-automatic toting gunmen in the middle of traffic.

Yep, probably not.

I, Shari Hathorne, have experienced none but the latter. Lucky me.

Here’s where the tale begins……

I hate traffic. Always have, always will. There’s just something about being stuck in a metal box in the middle of the road, sweating away, waiting for the car in front of you to move.

And then there’s the conniving jackals who think they own the road.

SCREEEE!!

“Watch where you’re going, punk!!”

Suuuuuuuuuuure, you swerve in front of us and we get the blame.

The smell of burnt rubber wafted in through an open window, irately, I fanned the offending fumes away from my nose. And glared at the driver, my best friend, Connor Davis.

There’s something you should know about the two of us. We’ve been friends since second grade, and since then, we’ve been notorious for getting into trouble with little, or no, effort at all.

So imagine how surprised Connor was when the barrel of a gun poked out of the van next to us.

Yup, not surprised at all.

In fact, he let out a groan and a half-hearted “Not again!” right as the first round of bullets came speeding towards us.

Connor hit the gas, attempting to swerve away.

Key word here is “attempting”.

The car, a Chevy pickup that had put up with a lot more crap than us, took a couple bullets to the bumper, door and a few left webbed cracks in the windshield.

After regaining a bit more focus, I quickly belted myself in.

Looking back, that was the smartest move I’ve ever made in my life.

Between Connor’s reckless driving (ahem, dodging) and the bullets going every which way, I don’t think I would’ve had time to worry about smacking my head on the windshield.

Thank God for seatbelts.

We were doing pretty well, the white van fell behind a block, then two, then it disappeared from sight altogether.

But then, horror of all horrors, the traffic light.

I know most of you are probably laughing right now, but I’m serious!

Those things are evil incarnate and they’re always red when you need them to be green to boot!

I’m getting off topic now.

Anyways, the traffic light (cue evil sounding music).

Connor slammed on the brakes, very reluctantly might I add, and sat there, eye twitching, waiting for the light to change.

The now familiar sound of machine gun fire began getting closer and closer and…..

Oh look! The light changed!

Connor, so shocked that the light had actually changed, didn’t move.

I gritted my teeth “A wise old man once told me, when in doubt, floor it!” I yelled at him.

Connor immediately snapped out of his little “deer in the headlights” moment. And, obviously, floored it.

You know that little arrow that shows how fast you’re going? Well it jumped from the zero to the seventy-five in about half a second.

Ha! Take that Ferrari!!

Okay… It’s official, I’m delusional…..

Anyways!

As soon as Connor had floored it, we were zooming along the road to who knows where, watching the buildings and people flash by.

It feels like an out-of body experience when you’re going that fast.

Another round of bullets from the gunmen came flying by, all but one, which hit the windshield, missing.

The windshield shattered inward, spraying us with shards of safety glass before we had time to duck.

A few small shards nicked my face, droplets of blood trickled down my face like tears, blending into my copper hair.

Connor took the brunt though, on of the larger pieces had cut a gash from his jaw to his forehead. Like all head wounds, it bled heavily, and a few strands of his black hair floated out the remains of the windshield.

Despite all this, he kept driving, although his green eyes were giving away how much pain he was in.

Connor, gritting his teeth, neatly executed a hairpin turn around a corner.

The van, though bigger and clumsier than the Chevy, made the same turn, but with on big difference. They turned on two wheels and abruptly fell over.

I let out a strangled laugh, I probably would have been in hysterics if not for the fact that we had been fleeing from it for the past fifteen minutes.

With a loud screech, the old Chevy bounced down the new road, then sputtered and died.

I checked the gas meter, sure enough, empty.

Too shocked to move, me and Connor turned to look at each other, and then gave a whoop of excitement.

Then, having done that, we turned back to the white van. The van was upside down, the top crushed into the bottom, wheels still turning.

Shakily, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the truck.

My legs were still wobbly from all the extra adrenaline, so, naturally, they gave out underneath me. Connor, who had also gotten out of the truck, grabbed me before I could hit the ground; with a bit of effort he hauled me to my feet.

And together, two battered teens; bloody and tired, leaning heavily on each other, walked to a payphone and called the cops.

After that was done, we just leaned against a wall, watching the van, eyeing the now smoking Chevy.

And we laughed. Long and hard until tears started rolling down like rain.

And then it actually started raining, it had been gray that morning, so I wasn’t all that surprised, but it still shocked me a bit.

We stood in the rain for a good while, letting the rain wash away the blood and the fear.

Connor and I smiled at each other, sharing another laugh at the fate of the van (what? It looked like an upside-down bug!).

The expression on his face softened, and what happened next did surprise me.

He kissed me, gently caressing my face with his fingertips.

I eagerly kissed him back, he was my best friend, but I loved him, and apparently, he loved me too, even though I was a tomboy.

Now don’t go telling me you know what that kiss felt like, ‘cuz you don’t.

No matter what, I don’t think anyone has kissed their best friend in the rain after being chased and nearly killed by a vanful of gunmen.

Yup, pretty sure of that.

Adrenaline-end

Soooooooo……… what did you think of it?

C’mon, review, you know you want to….

-- Negative Hummingbird