014 POV shot at drive away 822

It's the innate, preprogrammed need to live that saves my life. It's the same automatic muscular reaction that engages when you suddenly see a spider crawling towards you or a snake slithering your way. Millions of years of evolution have baked in this auto-pilot evasion and it's thanks to this that I find myself diving through the air for the cover of the giant dumpster. 

I land with a thump and an ungracious role, grazing my palms and forearms on the rough concrete. Simultaneously I hear the Ting! Ting! Ting! of bullets hitting my metal protector. I've parked next to this hunk of junk every day for well over a year. In all those days never did I think it would save my life. 

Pop! Ting!

Another piece of high velocity lead is arrested by its rusting steel exoskeleton, followed by the sound of movement up above. Specifically, what I think sounds like a man rapidly descending the fire stairs. A quick glance around the side of the dumpster confirms it. I suddenly realise that if I stay hunched like this behind my tin-can saviour, odds are this patch of cracked concrete will be where my lungs draw their final breath and my heart beats its last. 

I scramble around to the opposite side that is closest to my car. I peer out again, right as the man jumps down from the last fire rung and moves quickly toward the black briefcase. It's now or never.

I stay low as I dash to my car, key open the passenger side door and dive in. Just as I pull the door closed, I hear the, Pop! Pop! Pop! of three bullets racking the side door. I stay low, dive across the seats, plunge the key into the ignition, twist it, and thankfully the engine catches first time. I jam the car into gear, release the handbrake and punch the gas with my right hand, clinging to the steering wheel with my left. 

I keep my head down low. I have absolutely no vision of where I'm going. I know that my car is parked facing the road. Though I also know that there's a small curb to the parking lot, a sidewalk and another curb between me and the road. There's no way in hell I'm gonna sit up and risk being shot just so I can steer. The car jolts forward like a bee-stung stallion. I brace for the impact of the sidewalk curb, but I hit something else, something unexpected. I look up in time to see the body of the man fly up and over the windscreen of my car. I hit him. I actually hit him.  

I  sit up just enough to see where I'm going right as my car grazes over the parking lot curb, hits the sidewalk then scrapes down onto the road. I spin the wheel hard and slam the brakes, managing to bring the car to a stop only inches from mounting the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road. I'm thankful for the late hour and the lack of moving vehicle obstacles.

I stay low and angle the rear vision mirror until I glimpse of the man, lying on the ground, unmoving. That black briefcase strewn near him. Strangely, I feel an urge to go back and help him, I did just hit him with my car after all. But fortunately my sense of humanity is checked by the rational side of my brain that reminds me... that man just tried to kill you. Get the hell out of here now!

I feel safe enough to sit upright. As I do I angle the rearview mirror to its original position and see the man start moving. He looks dazed, confused. He looks my way, gets to his knees then stands. I watch him as he staggers a few feet and picks up his hand gun. This is when I pound the gas. The man runs out onto the road, firing at me. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! The first volley of bullets whizz past my car, missing completely. But then... Pop! Crash! A final shot punctures my rear window, spider-webbing the glass.

Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

The road I'm on is long and dead straight. I know I'll take the first turn I can to get out of his line of sight, but I also know that first turn isn't for another two hundred yards or so.

My rearview mirror shows the man with the briefcase in hand get into a black Mercedes that's parked on the side of the road outside the restaurant. It must be a push to start car, as he's driving within two seconds of getting in. I watch in horror as he floors it down the road, rapidly gaining on me. The engine of his Merc' vastly superior to that of my car.