Driving Lessons

Terrified about the state of his silken jacket first and the well-being of his saviour second, Oto rushed towards the resting mound of fabric.

“Please no blood, please no blood—” He repeated to himself as he raced to her side. “Hey, are you okay? Are you bleeding on my—”

“Get out of here,” His saviour groaned as she slowly pushed herself up from the asphalt. “You idiot!”

“Come on, Hayami,” A voice called out as the familiar ding of the bell announced someone stepping through the shop door. “Give us the boy and we’ll consider letting you live.”

“Screw you!”

Oto’s saviour, whom he now knew was a girl named Hayami, stepped between him and the plainclothes goons. Peeking over her shoulder, he could see that three figures had emerged into the light. Like those on the train, they wore jeans and shirts, black glasses shielding their eyes.

Was there a poverty sale somewhere? He asked himself, looking at their misshapen scowls. Now these vagrants look more the part than Hayami. Such a pretty name—

“Yeah. Come on, sweetheart.” Another one called out to her. “If you don’t give us the boy, we’ll just take him and make you show us a good time before we let you walk out of here.”

“Maybe walk by the time we’re done with you.” The first chuckled.

“Don’t do it, Hayami,” Oto whispered. “It’s a bad deal. Walking is important.”

“Shut up!” She hissed back at him. “And don’t call me that.”

Continuing to stare over her shoulder, Oto watched as the three goons began their slow approach. With fidgety hands, they reached behind their backs and into their off-the-rack jeans before revealing the matte black of pistols.

Oto’s heart began to race as he thought of the train ride and his quick departure. The fact was simple that he hated guns for multiple reasons, but most recently because they had been responsible for tearing a hole in his favourite jacket. Now, with three smaller guns that he knew to be pistols being raised towards him, he began to feel more than a little nervous. He was even willing to go so far as to wish that he had remained in the dusty deathtrap of a truck for his saviour to return from their current excursion.

That was when he watched as Hayami, glancing back at him with a curious look, gave him the same shrug she had on the train. With hands up, washing herself of the situation, she stepped to the side with a defeated look.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay, fine. He’s all yours, ‘kay.”

Oto’s heart stopped as suddenly his defender was no longer keeping him safe from the obviously dangerous thugs.

“I—I-uh, Hayami—heh,” He panicked, reaching for the sleeve of his jacket. “I-I take back what I said. You know…walking is overrated. With the money I’ll be paying you, you could buy one of those really nice wheelchairs. It’ll be so comfortable you’ll never want to walk again!”

She ripped her arm from his grasp, taking a step away from him as the goons drew closer. Oto’s stopped heart then picked back up, racing faster as the rusty cogs of his mind began to turn once more. There was only one thing he could do in this situation.

“Eight, Hayami.” He cried out, matching the goons’ steps forward with one in retreat. “How does eight sound?”

There was no response as she continued to maintain her fixed stare on the thugs who were almost to her.

“Nine!” Oto continued. “Nine is a good number. Much better than eight!”

Catching his foot on a crack, he stumbled backwards against the parked car. Oto peeked behind, noticing the quartered circle of blue and white that adorned the hood as its mascot. He had finally stumbled upon the first piece of quasi-luxury in hours, yet its very existence was set to doom him.

Unless…

“Ten! Ten, Hayami!” He begged. “That’s a good number, right? A great number? Ten million reasons to help me!”

The goons were now directly in front of Hayami, their vision firmly locked on Oto, who had become trapped by the car. She was watching them intently, like a predator sizing up the prey before the strike. That way, when she did finally attack, it was with brutal accuracy.

Throwing her hands down, the baton slipped from the coat sleeve and fit snuggly into her palm. Her wrist flicked, extending the metal rod that quickly connected with the forward goon’s kneecap. The motion was so fast that Oto barely saw what had happened, only the resulting collapse. It all happened before she thrust her arm up, catching his wrist with the weapon and forcing it to flex at an unnatural angle.

The gun began to fall as the two thugs realized the ruse they had fallen for. But unfortunately for them, their fate had already been sealed the moment they voiced their threats.

Hayami spun like a top, raising a leg as she came around to kick the pistol back towards the nearest obstacle. The gun connected with her heel, flying back and hitting the next figure in the groin, doubling him over. She was now in the perfect position, between two collapsing thugs that doubled as her shields.

A bullet was fired from the remaining active threat, but she was already under the nearest man. Blood sprayed from him as she rolled beneath with her baton ready. It only took another second for her to swing at the last threat’s ankle, cracking it with a powerful blow.

The grip on his gun became slack as she snapped his wrist, much like the first. But this time, catching the pistol out of the air, Hayami jumped to her feet and stood tall around the trio of men as their wounded bodies struck the pavement.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Three shots were all it took for her to finish the job.

Oto watched as the girl huffed, glancing at the bodies before locking eyes with him once again.

“That was—” He fiddled with his ear. “A bit loud.”

“Get in the car!” She ordered, quickly leaning over to remove the magazines from the two other guns.

“But it’s Brit—”

Oto wouldn’t have time to finish his statement as gunfire erupted from the two remaining parked cars. Even more vagrants had appeared from the vehicles, now using the building for cover as they fired at the two.

“Getting in the car!” Oto added as he threw open the vehicle's door.

Pausing for a moment, he watched as Hayami took a knee and once again levelled the firearm over her baton to fire. Eleven shots in total echoed out, scattering dust and debris chipped from the building. The goons took cover from her calculated shots, giving her the time she needed to race towards the car.

Oto quickly slid past the open door and into the seat. Confusion struck as somehow he had entered the driver’s seat.

“Drive!” Hayami yelled at him as she slid over the hood of the vehicle before flinging open the passenger door and diving in.

There was a series of clicks as she ejected the magazine from her weapon and slid in one of the scavenged others.

“Me?” Oto replied with an aghast tone. “I don’t know how to drive!”

Hayami’s jaw dropped as bewilderment crossed her face.

“Then why get in the driver's seat?!”

“I thought it was British!”

Bullets began to ping against the door as the driver's side windows shattered, scattering glass into the vehicle.

Hayami grabbed at Oto’s shoulders, pulling him down as she reached over his head and fired out the open window. Meanwhile, the confused boy covered his ears as the gun rang out above him. Eventually, his saviour snapped her fingers before his face as she hastily began to point around the front of the vehicle.

“That starts the car.” She barked, pointing at a small circle. “Press that button in and pull the gear selector to Drive. That’s the DEE, you know what a DEE is, right?!”

“I’m not stupid!”

“Debateable!” She yelled, quickly sitting up and discharging multiple rounds in rapid fire out the driver’s side.

“Left pedal—that’s an EL with your thumb—that’s to brake. The right pedal makes the car go. Now go!”

“Wait, I need to buckle up.” He insisted, fiddling with the seat belt and snapping it into place. “Giles always says to buck—”

“Drive!” Hayami screamed, firing more rounds from her pistol before ejecting another magazine. “Drive, you idiot! Drive!”

Startled by the screaming, Oto quickly obeyed the instructions. Hastily putting the car into drive, he jammed his foot onto the gas pedal before firmly gripping the wheel. With a squeal of tires on asphalt, the luxury car took off from its spot at the gas pump.

He released a shrill scream, attempting to wrest control of the wheel with white knuckles a little too late as the car cut through bushes into an adjoining field. Hitting a pothole, Hayami flew up from her seat, smashing her head on the roof before landing back in her seat.

“The road! The road, idiot!”

“Stop calling me that!” He screamed, eventually managing to regain control enough to direct it to the road.

With a squeal of tires on pavement once more, they were now heading in the right direction as Oto checked his mirrors.

“Hayami—”

“You, stop calling me that!”

“Hoodlum!” Oto cried out, his eyes fixated on the two black vehicles quickly catching up to them. “They’re following us!”