Mama's High Speed Pursuit Part 1

Amy held her son in her arms. She stepped through her front door to see two men in black militia uniforms standing in her living room. The men were mountainous, resembling two dark towers standing beside her sofa. They had machine guns strapped to their chests, and skull masks kept their faces concealed. Amy didn’t expect this. She didn’t expect one man to snatch her son out of her arms. There was a fight in Amy’s living room.

Amy punched and kicked at the man who tried to take her baby. She saw the soldier’s handgun, but she didn’t give a damn about getting shot. Amy snatched the mask off the man’s face. She kept punching the man until she fractured his nose.

A bullet grazed her arm, but she kept brawling with the man. The adrenaline racing through the mother’s veins gave her the strength to crush the soldier’s throat with her fist. Amy used to be a mixed martial arts fighter. All of her training came back to her after the soldier assassin attempted to snatch her child away from her. Amy went berserk on the soldier when he tried to grab her son again. She broke the man’s nose and crushed his throat within ten seconds. The soldier tried to put another bullet through Amy’s arm, but he died before he could pull the trigger again. Almost getting shot was worth the kill for Amy.

She had to fight to protect her son, and she used her living room furniture as weapons. She threw her living room lamp at the second soldier, smashing the lamp across his head. Amy was about to throw something else at the soldier, but he tackled her before she could throw her weapon.

A blow to her face caused her to lose the fight with the second man. She went down to the floor after getting punched in the mouth. Amy tried to regain her composure after falling hard on her back. The soldier punched Amy with such precision that he knocked off her sunglasses that sat on her forehead along with her left earring. Amy could taste the blood on her busted lip. She felt tears harassing her eyes after the man punched her before snatching her son out of her arms. Amy’s little boy screamed while flailing his arms at the soldier.

“Don’t hurt my mommy!” Omar screamed. The five-year-old wanted to protect his mom, and he cried when he saw his mother lying on the floor. He dropped his little phone when the man snatched him out of his mother’s arms.

Amy pushed past her tears, letting rage overtake her. She watched as the soldier ran out of her house, carrying her son under his arm. Amy hopped to her feet. She ran so hard that her high heel sandals fell off her heels. She stumbled and fell to the ground after running down her front steps.

“Mama!!!” Omar called out to his mom. The little boy could barely breathe under the soldier’s arms. He reached out to his mother with his small arm outstretched over the man’s broad shoulder.

“Baby!” Amy screamed out to her son while standing back on her feet. She lost her breath for a second, but she had to keep moving. She fell into her car after watching the soldier jump into his car with her son. Amy’s heart collapsed when she saw the soldier’s muscle car speeding off, with its back tires pushing out smoke. Most mothers would have given up, but Amy refused to give up. The soldier’s 1969 Camero ZL1 had 500 horsepower beneath its chrome hood. Fortunately, Amy’s luxury sedan had more power than the soldier’s muscle car, and Amy had to put her car’s power to the test.

After pushing the ignition start button, the twin-turbocharged V8 engine inside Amy’s BMW M5 roared to life. She shifted her black-sapphire M5 into reverse and punched the throttle, sending her car shooting backward out of the driveway. A gentle growl emerged from under the car’s hood when Amy pressed her bare foot down on the accelerator. The only two things Amy could hear were her heavy breathing and her BMW’s low roaring turbocharged engine.

There was an intersection ahead, and Amy had a decision to make. She spotted the soldier’s Camaro, and she screamed out when she saw his muscle car race through the crowded intersection, blowing through a red light. Her heart slammed into her chest when she saw a passing car almost crash into the soldier’s Camaro. Amy had to race through the red light. She had to risk being hit broadside by a motorist. She saw the soldier’s Camero make it across the intersection, and she prayed God would let her car make it across as well.

Amy saw her life flash before her eyes when she speeded across the intersection and saw the headlights of a crew cab pickup truck barreling toward her car. Amy gunned the engine, forcing her BMW to dart past the approaching pickup. The Ford F-150 missed Amy’s BMW by an inch. The truck roared past the car’s rear bumper with its horn blaring. Amy’s BMW was in the clear and she could hear her car’s engine growling back into its 601 horsepower output. Amy reached for her purse with one hand on the steering wheel. She almost knocked her purse off the passenger seat while reaching inside to grab her phone.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher’s voice echoed out of Amy’s iPhone. The woman’s voice was calming, but even the operator’s soothing voice wouldn’t be able to relax Amy.

“Yes, I need help!” Amy breathlessly spoke into her phone. “A man kidnapped my baby! I’m in my car right now and I’m chasing him!” Amy swallowed hard when she almost lost control of her BMW. She tried to keep her phone steady against her ear with her other hand gripping the steering wheel.

“Okay, ma’am, I have to advise you not to pursue the kidnapper. You can give me the license plate number on the kidnapper’s vehicle, and we’ll send out units to track him down. You shouldn’t be pursuing him.” The dispatcher sounded like a caring mother.

“What am I supposed to do!? I have to chase him!” Amy shouted into her phone. Her British accent intensified her soft, trembling voice.

“Don’t chase him. It’s too dangerous, honey,” the 911 operator instructed Amy.

Amy didn’t like what the dispatcher was telling her to do. She gripped the steering wheel while biting her bottom lip. Every worst-case scenario played through her mind. She kept seeing the soldier’s muscle car crashing into something. She saw herself losing control of her BMW. Amy fought against the worst-case scenarios haunting her mind. She felt a few tears escape from her eyes, even though she told herself to be brave.

“Hello, are you still there?” The 911 operator asked through her grandmotherly voice. The operator didn’t want Amy to hang up, and she became worried when she didn’t hear her voice anymore.

“Yes, I’m here!” Amy replied. “I don’t know what’s happening!” She continued. “When I walked into my house, these two men were standing in my living room! One of them reached for my son and I punched him. He tried to shoot me and I punched him in the throat. I think I killed him. His body is still in my house! I’m chasing the other man who took my child. He’s driving a silver muscle car and I can’t see his license plate number!” Amy’s voice lost its strength for a minute. She was so caught up with talking to the dispatcher that she suddenly noticed that she was driving on the freeway. Amy had no memory of getting onto the freeway. She couldn’t account for the lost sequence of events or the five minutes that passed her by. It was as if her mind had blacked out for five minutes, cutting out a segment of time.

“Are you still pursuing the kidnapper? If you’re still chasing him, then you need to stop,” the operator emphatically spoke to Amy.

“I have to chase him!” Amy yelled at the dispatcher. 

“Honey, I know you’re scared, but you need to let the police handle this. Just give me his license plate number so I can track his location.”

“I can’t see his f#cking license plate number! I’m on the Copenhagen Expressway and I’m heading west!” Amy told the dispatcher with an impatient fire in her voice.

“Do you know what kind of car the kidnapper is driving?” The operator asked, keeping her gentle tone, even though Amy was screaming at her.

“He’s driving a silver muscle car!” Amy’s answer whipped out of her mouth.

“No, no, honey, I need the make and model of the car. Can you give me the make and model?” The 911 operator picked the wrong time to ask Amy a series of questions.

“I think he’s driving a Camaro!” Amy amazingly kept control of her BMW while speaking to the dispatcher. She had her hand glued to the steering wheel, and she was swerving from lane to lane, trying to keep up with the soldier’s car.

“I know you’re frightened. But I need you to stay calm for me.” The dispatcher didn’t know that she was talking to no one. She would soon realize that her words were communicating with dead space.

Amy couldn’t take it anymore. She threw her phone down on the passenger seat in frustration. She wiped the tears from her eyes before placing her hand back on the steering wheel. Amy didn’t have to swerve around too many cars. Most of the cars she blew past were levitating above the road. Instead of swerving around cars on the highway, Amy was driving beneath them. Some cars on the road still used tires like Amy’s BMW. But other passenger vehicles levitated above the road using anti-gravity thrusters.

“I’m sorry,” Amy cringed and whispered after she drove her BMW beneath an all-electric, levitating sports car and heard the motorist blow his horn at her. She boldly drove her car underneath the platinum-blue Hyundai Volition, and the roof of her BMW almost scraped the bottom of the sports car’s rear left solar-powered thruster. She tried not to think about losing her life while glancing down at the speedometer. Amy had her high-powered BMW cruising at 90 miles per hour. She kept praying for a miracle. All kinds of thoughts raced through her mind. While listening to her car’s roaring engine, Amy thought about how she almost killed the man who shot her husband.