Pursued - Chapter 3

Pursued – Chapter Three


     After a twenty minute drive, filled with precautionary switch-backs and block circling, Eradication pulls into the parking lot of the local police precinct. Desolation is sitting in the passenger seat with Hellbound and Keening in the back. For being eleven o’clock at night in the outskirts of Las Vegas, the parking lot and precinct are pretty quiet.

     “Go see if they’re holding Pandemic,” Eradication tells Hellbound, making eye contact with her via the rearview mirror.

     “Why me?” Hellbound asks.

     “She’s not in there,” Desolation says, staring through the windshield at the front doors.

     “How do you know,” Eradication asks.

     “Things are too quiet in there and I can see cops milling about inside. If they were holding her, I’d expect a tad more chaos.”

     “And maybe blood-spray,” Keening adds.

     “Go check anyway,” Eradication tells Hellbound again.

     “Why me,” Hellbound repeats.

     “Because she’s the boss and she told you to,” Desolation snaps.

     “Take it easy,” Eradication soothes. “Actually, it’s because the place is full of cops.”

     “That doesn’t really answer my question,” Hellbound replies. “So, why me?”

     “Most of them have cocks,” Eradication answers.

     “I’ll be right back,” Hellbound replies, pushing up her boobs and tweaking her nipples before quickly exiting the backseat. She walks the short distance to the front steps of the precinct, pausing to look back at her friends in the dark sedan. Giving a quick wave, she disappears through the doors.

     “I’m looking for a friend,” Hellbound says to the back of the man in blue behind the glass ignoring her. “Excuse me,” she says a little louder, tapping on the safety glass. “I’m looking for a friend.”

     “Aren’t we all,” the officer replies, turning around to find out who is so rudely interrupting her break. Her expression changes when she sees Hellbound standing on the other side of the protected counter.

     “Fuck,” Hellbound mumbles, seeing the policeman she was hoping to pump for information or anything else there might be time for, is the largest and possibly oldest female officer she’s ever seen in real life. Her close-cropped, gray hair and curve obliterating Kevlar vest add to the gender-bending illusion. The policewoman’s sleeves are rolled up to expose a rose tattoo on her forearm, with the word “Mother” inscribed on the thorny stem, completing the image. Sergeant’s stripes ride just below each shoulder of the uniform.

     “Can I help you,” the cop asks with a leer.

     “I’m looking for a friend of mine,” Hellbound answers, folding her arms over her chest and covering her nipples who were ready for action just a couple seconds ago, but are now easing back on their pressure against the fabric of Hellbound’s light-weight top. “And I think you might be holding her. She probably would’ve come in within the last hour, maybe less.”

     “Name…” the officer says, making it sound like a statement and not a question.

     “Hell…” Hellbound begins before catching herself. “Hillary. Hillary Bounds,” she lies.

     The older woman clacks away at the keys on her computer terminal for a few seconds and pauses to read the display. “Sorry,” she says, subconsciously licking her lips when she looks at Hellbound. “No Hillary Bounds here or in the system.”

     “No, I’m Hillary Bounds,” Hellbound replies, controlling her frustration.

     “Well, what’s your friend’s name, Hillary?” the sergeant asks.

     “Miss Bounds,” Hellbound replies.

     “Are you two sisters,” the officer asks.

     “No. But you can call me Miss Bounds and I’ll call you officer of Sergeant, okay?”

     “What’s your friend’s name, Ms. Bounds?” the cop asks, making sure to overemphasize the prefix.

     “She probably didn’t give her real name,” Hellbound answers, not wanting to sound any crazier than she was about to.

     “And that would be, Ms. Bounds?” she asks, her fingers hovering over her keyboard.

     “She probably said her name was Pandemic,” Hellbound replies, rubbing the back of her neck with her right hand and unintentionally, if not instinctually pressing her ample boobs against her shirt. She’s looking behind the sergeant at the few officers roaming around the squad room when she realizes there are no keys clicking away. Shifting her attention back to the officer, she follows her line of sight the short distance to her tits. “For fuck's sake, here!” Hellbound says, jerking her top up to expose her bare breasts to the officer, before pulling it back down quickly. “Can you please check and see if she’s here, now?”

     “Sure,” the officer says, swallowing hard as she slowly pulls her gaze away from Hellbound’s chest. “How do you spell that?”

     “The way you normally would,” Hellbound replies, setting her hands on her hips and tipping her head slightly to one side in an, I can’t believe you’re that stupid expression.

     “Right,” the cop replies, poking at the keys for a few seconds. “No one by that name being held,” she says.

     “Are any other precincts reporting anything unusual?” Hellbound asks.

     “Like what?”

     “I don’t know,” Hellbound says. “An unruly suspect, a riot in the precinct… Maybe some girl kicking everyone’s asses?”

     “Sweet-cheeks,” the sergeant says, giving up all pretense of professionalism. She sets her hands on the counter and leans closer to ogle Hellbound through the glass. “This is Vegas and freaky shit happens here all the time.”

     “Thanks,” Hellbound says. Turning abruptly, she doesn’t wait for any further conversation as she heads for the door. The sergeant doesn’t offer any, as she watches Hellbound walk away, wishing for an opportunity to act out all the things she’d like to do to her and have done by her, as Hellbound pushes through the door.

     “She’s not being held,” Hellbound says as she reaches the car and opens the backdoor. “And they don’t all have cocks in there. Probably,” she adds at the end.

     “Let’s go back to the office. I think I’ve got a way to find her,” Eradication says, turning the key and spurring the engine to life.

     “What do you have in mind?” Keening asks.

     “Low-jack,” Eradication replies, dropping the car into gear and popping on the lights.

     Inside the precinct, the sergeant picks up the phone and dials a number from memory when she sees the headlights leave the parking lot. “They were just here asking about her,” she says to someone on the other end of the line. “What could I tell her?” she asks. “Following them isn’t our job,” she says in a harsh whisper after a moment. “Yes,” she says, her tone and demeanor taking on a submissive and slightly scared tone. “I didn’t mean…” she begins, but the person on the other end cuts her off. “Yes… Yes… No… Thank you,” the sergeant says, before gently hanging up the phone. “Fucking dick!” she adds when she’s sure the call is disconnected.