Evil Car

By Rich Cole

In the city's underworld, the Don has lost something value, something unknown in his vintage Chevy and he needs only the best man for the job…at first. The world city is thrown into chaos when the car starts killing randomly. There are questions and there is no one to answer these questions.

Glover is the top man for almost every dirty job. But when he finds himself in a situation he didn't bargain for, he has to decide if his pride was worth risking his life and the life of the woman he loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215080375

Book preview

Evil Car

© 2021 Seagull Editions s.r.l.

www.seagulleditions.com

Prologue

Dawn was breaking through slowly. The night before, Jimmy Da’Law had slept like a king on the sidewalk, in front of a closed shop. He had been passing by for the last four days, just like he walked through the city, seeing the whole of it as drifters were wont to do. Having no home was a bonus for someone like him. No home meant no walls. He was a citizen of the world with no borders.

He stirred from his sleep. He had gotten a filthy nightmare, something about seeing a man kill a family of six with a baseball bat. He had seen the face of the dying family, but for some reason, the murderer’s face was stuck in darkness. Jimmy groaned. He loved the cold some nights. Sometimes when he couldn’t hustle a bath, the cold made the sleep a little bit more comfortable. He was wrapped up in the blanket he stole a few days ago from the lines of some other family.

Jimmy had plans. A man like himself survived by being smart and fast. He had to be, the world was just as cruel as it was beautiful and large. It was full of people who were smarter than him and had more power. People who looked down to the floor where he ruled. Jimmy was not stupid. His plans were simple. He would need food, and to get that, he would need money.

He had been scouting a coffee shop some blocks away. They opened just around the time he woke up. He would give the woman some minutes to get her things in order. He didn’t like robbing while people still hard at work. He would get at least one customer in the mix too.

Early morning customers were the best. They had money, and they were scared. Something about the time made everyone vulnerable. No one wanted to die that early in the morning; no one wanted to get hurt that early either—not for a few dollar bills. He wouldn’t even need the old clunky 36. Revolver in his pocket. He couldn’t remember how many bullets were in there, but he wouldn’t need it. That was what mattered.

He groaned as he sat up. The world was getting brighter, but not quite. He could imagine the warmth the sun would bring soon.  Something, probably a page of a newspaper, drafted in the early morning wind. It pushed higher and then slowly fell only to be picked again by the wain. The cold stretched, latched onto Jimmy, and he pushed it out by rubbing his hands together and placing them on his cheeks.

He packed his blanket into his green backpack. His shirt smelled, and his breath was worse. But he didn’t mind. He would get something to eat and then a shower somehow. He was about to have some money.  Jimmy felt a little elated. The job was so sure. He had done it so many times than he could count. Never too many times in one part of a city. That was why he walked around.

He dusted himself and sighed as he picked the bag. His stomach ached slightly. He cursed himself for not eating the night before. He walked down the street—Bowen’s Street. It had the quiet of a cemetery, until cars started whooshing past. Jimmy waved at cars as they passed, not trying to stop them. Just having fun.

He took the left turn into Clarksview. The street stretched long, but he was not worried. He probably should have slept close to the mark. That would have made it easier to get to. He didn’t want think it, but there was the possibility of meeting the police there. He had survived so far, but not on his luck.

More stores as he walked, slowly at first and then he hurried his steps. The police thought had him worried. With police officers in there, there was nothing he could do. He had the revolver he had pilfered, but that was no use against Glock and Colts the uniforms would be carrying and he wasn’t really hoping for a shoot-out.

He adjusted his bag. Clarksview was long, but it wasn’t very large. Its double lane road was like a narrow black tongue in the middle. The building flanking it were beautiful and ugly in equal measure. It wasn’t the worst part of the city he had been in, but he sure didn’t like it. Some of the buildings were missing lights, making them look odd in the midst of those with exterior lights.

He ignored the roar of fear and worry in his stomach and decided to focus on the pleasure that awaited him. The time was somewhere between five, five-thirty or six. He would get there soon and by nine, he would have a burger and something like a creamy coffee in his hands. All that ends well...or whatever the saying was.

That was the kind of life he wanted. Some reward for his hard work. He had walked through the city like a blood cell taking a tour of the entire body. He had seen things—both good and bad. He knew where the bad ones happened and knew to stay away. He knew when the good ones occurred, like when a certain gift-shop was closing and when some of those college kids were staggering back from one of the few clubs in the city.

Jimmy was almost at the end of Clarksview. He had left the dark stores behind. He was going to take a quick cross into Bakers Street. He could see the front light of the coffee shop on. He could tell the woman was cleaning up. There were no cars parked out in the curb in front and no bikes—but then they could have just walked in.

Jimmy should have looked ahead. He shouldn’t have looked to the left. Maybe then he would have seen it.  He would have not moved to the other side of the road. In some parts of America, and maybe the world, there was a belief that people’s fates were sealed the moment they were born. That meant the moment Jimmy Da’Law came out crying from the inside of his mother—his destiny had the Chevy Camaro in it.

It was signed, stamped and dispensed by some really unfathomable entity. That was what Jimmy thought when he saw the car. The skin on it was gleaming, it was beautiful, grey, like new ash. Jimmy’s mouth water as he stared at it. All thoughts of future breakfast disappeared like the world was a painting and rain had washed away the color, leaving behind the Chevy.

It was parked there, in front of what would be a florist shop when it would be open a few hours. Jimmy stared at it. There was no reason not to. The car sat there like a trophy. It was sitting just as it would in any sales shop. Balanced, shiny and from he could tell, it was carelessly left there.

Two things occurred to thirty eight years old Jimmy. He could look at the car close-up. He could stare at it like some mighty fine beast and then go continue on what he planned to do and live happily ever after, or he could get in that machine somehow and git!

He looked around the road, there wasn’t anyone coming. There wasn’t a soul watching too. If there wasn’t anyone, then who brought the beauty there? The car would be some gang-boss beauty toy, but this was Clarksview, not Lakeside. Not one of those in-streets where deals were made and things were being exchanged. Things that could leave holes in people. He looked around again, his mind told him that this was fate.

He didn’t need to keep the car. He didn’t need to take it for himself. He could stash it somewhere and get someone to come pick it up for a fee. He could get more than he was supposed to get robbing a small coffee shop and then he could get a really nice hotel room to bathe and have a nice long sleep. What was he talking about? Five thousand dollars? Ten thousand? He waited for a Honda to drive pass and then crossed the road to the Chevy.

The dark of dawn was cracking, light and warmth were stretching up into sky. He had lost his breakfast. But he was not worried. He had gotten something else, something better. He would be rich in a matter of hours. He peered inside and cursed when he saw that the door-pins were up. He almost screamed in excitement. He opened the door and looked inside.

He couldn’t understand why, but he wanted the car. He loved it. He needed it. It was like some part of him he had been missing. He wanted it so bad. The inside smelled like a new home, the seats were clean and new. The dashboard had never felt a scrape and the steering wheel was inviting him to hold it. Jimmy got in and sat down. The seat was the most comfortable thing in the world. He tossed is bag in the passenger seat and closed the door. He held the steering wheel and smiled. It was just as he thought. The feeling was exceptional. It was like being in a space ship. Jimmy wanted to wohoo! Sun reflected on the window glass and he realized he had to leave or someone would come yank him out of the car.

Where to, sir? A voice asked and Jimmy jumped.   The first thought that came to his mind was getting out, but the pins were down. He kept trying to open the door, but it didn’t and that made it worse for him. His panic rushed up and then he saw the pin and it came crashing like rain.

He looked at the dashboard and saw the GPS was on. The whole dashboard was lit up. Jimmy cursed in disbelief. What was he talking about ten thousand bucks again? It was a remodeled car.  A fucking modern modeled like a Chevy. Or a Chevy refurbished and made into some kind of supercar. 

Where would you like to go, sir?

Anywhere that is not here! Jimmy said excited.

Understood, the voice said again. In his shock he hadn’t registered the mechanical voice. There was an A. I running the car. It revved up. Jimmy giggled. It was like nothing he had experienced before. The GPS zeroed in and when Jimmy looked at where the car had picked to take him, he frowned. But he wasn’t able to speak before it moved.

That was the first red flag Jimmy missed. The car didn’t roll into the lane. It didn’t nose in like Jimmy would have done. It zoomed in like a drunk and then accelerated once it was straight. He didn’t think much of it because the car settled back into a smooth, fast drive. It was precise. The steering was there but, Jimmy wasn’t using it.

What’s the use?  He thought. He wanted his hands on the bad boy. He wanted to cruise, not be cruised. He checked the dashboard and as he had thought, there was a button to switch to automatic. He pushed it with one hand on the steering.

You sure, sir? The car asked.

Heck yeah! Jimmy said. The switch happened