Part 9
"Get in the car, Maya. Now," I said, my voice leaving absolutely no room for argument.
She scrambled into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut with a loud slam. I walked around to the driver's side, my eyes locked onto the black SUV at the edge of the lot.
The brake lights of the SUV flared red.
Evan didn't drive toward us. Instead, he slowly pulled out of the parking lot and parked across the street, positioning his vehicle directly in the path we would have to take to get to the highway.
He was blocking the exit.
I climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door, locking all the entries with a sharp click of the button.
"He's going to stop us," Maya panicked, her fingers tearing at the hem of her shirt. "Dad, he's going to ram the truck or do something crazy. He knows he's trapped. When he feels trapped, he explodes."
"He’s not going to explode on my watch," I muttered, turning the key in the ignition. The old V8 engine roared to life, a steady, powerful rumble that gave me a sudden surge of confidence.
I looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. My grandkids were safe at my house with my neighbor watching them, but I needed to get this settled before Evan decided to head over there.
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"Hold on," I told Maya.
I shifted the truck into drive, but instead of heading toward the main exit where Evan was waiting, I turned the steering wheel sharply to the right, aiming the heavy truck toward the narrow dirt service road used by the school's maintenance crew.
