Dawnbreaker

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The tires squealed.

We took the corner going close to fifty miles per hour, skidding into the turn. I braced myself against the driver’s seat and clenched my teeth, swallowing yet another curse as Knox narrowly missed a parked car as he whipped us down another residential street. A second set of squealing tires followed close behind as the Ford Mustang barreled toward us with increasing velocity.

“Get us out of the city, damn it!” I shouted at Knox. At this speed, we were going to hit someone, and with the naturi gaining ground, we couldn’t afford to slow down. We had to get out of the city before we killed someone or the Savannah cops finally noticed a pair of cars rushing around the city at breakneck speeds.

“It’s not that easy!” Knox shouted back. Both of his hands gripped the wheel tight enough to make his knuckles white. “We’re coming from downtown and you said lose them, not get out of the city.”

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