Shit! Even though I had my lights and sirens running, it didn’t change the fact that I was still stuck in the middle of I-93 traffic, visibly driving a police cruiser, which meant I couldn’t exactly swap my ride for one of my new vehicles. If I had to go toe-to-toe with Axel, I would be outmatched and outgunned. Still, I couldn’t let the other Endr get to Cam. I picked up my radio and made the call.

  Troop A dispatch, 2-Adam-12. I have a possible ID on a wanted violent felony suspect. The vehicle is a late-80s, rust colored Dodge Ramcharger. Northbound I-93, exiting at Assembly Square now. Requesting immediate backup.

  My radio cut me off, switching to nothing but static. Ha! I’d beaten Dispatch to the radio, even if she had eventually cut off that means of communication, too. Regardless of whether I responded to my State Police dispatcher, the local Somerville PD would be swarming to my position.

  fourth_wall: Nice try, Somerville, but you know the rules. Let Axel handle this.

  Max: I’m not going to let you kill Cam. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

  fourth_wall: We went over this. You’re the one who put him at risk. Plus, nobody’s going to kill your friend. We’re just going to send him on to a much nicer place.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Even if Dispatch was planning to send Cam to a much nicer place (which I seriously doubted), it was no consolation. Cam meant so much to so many people here in this world, including me. I couldn’t stomach the thought that my actions might lead to him getting run over by that asshat Axel.

  I knew I shouldn’t have discussed the Bureau around him, but he’d been with me from the very first conversation with Dan. Lanie had warned me multiple times about what we said and where we said them. Even Richard Simmons had made sure we were in a secure area before he let me see behind the wall. Damn it. fourth_wall was right. I had ignored every warning and sealed Cam’s doom.

  A new message popped up on my Elysium Pro. I did a double-take. How the hell did he even get my number?

  axel_roads: Did you really call the fuzz on me? Dick move, Max. Endrs before senders!

  I stared at the message in my mental interface while I weaved in and out of traffic, trying to follow the Ramcharger through Somerville’s back roads. What the fuck was he talking about? The catchphrase didn’t even make sense. We were both the Endrs and the senders. But I guess I understood what he was getting at. We were supposed to be aligned with the same common goals. Do the bidding of Dispatch and, therefore, the Bureau. There was no denying that I had sided with a non-Endr over what Dispatch wanted us to do.

  The sound of sirens came closer, and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing my fellow law enforcement was closing in on Axel. We flew by Foss Park, and Axel took a right onto Broadway. I followed close behind, feeling like a sheep dog herding the flock into the waiting arms of the shepherd, only in this case the shepherd was Somerville’s boys in blue.

  Based on my description of the Ramcharger Killer’s ride and our proximity to Medford, I was nearly certain this was becoming a multi-city chase, meaning a higher volume of officers would be involved. I was pretty sure Axel would evade capture, something I suspected would be better for my own longevity with the Bureau. I honestly didn’t care. I just needed the local PD to delay Axel long enough for me to get to Cam.

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  My stomach dropped when I got to the end of that thought. What could I really do that would keep him safe? If Dispatch wanted Cam out of the equation, there was no way I could protect him forever. Maybe Lanie could help me convince fourth_wall to give us another chance? Whether that would work probably depended on what exactly Cam knew and whether it put the Bureau at risk. What exactly had he been about to tell me?

  Axel whipped his Ramcharger right onto Temple Street in an attempt to get out of the labyrinth of roads in Winter Hill. He was likely planning to head back under the Interstate and down the Fellsway toward Revere Beach Parkway, knowing, just as I did, that most of my backup would be coming from more central parts of Somerville. He was, therefore, driving away from them.

  I instinctively followed Axel through the turn, then cursed myself when I realized I should have gone straight to The Central and let the other officers find him and pick up the chase. Too late now. I was committed for the moment and gaining on him, and besides, despite the nearing sirens, I couldn't see a single other cruiser yet.

  I blasted onto Mystic Avenue behind Axel, just as he turned on a rear-facing flamethrower. Fire bathed my cruiser, making the cab heat up like the inside of a sauna. But the problem wasn’t the heat. It was that we were barreling into the turn at 45 miles per hour, in the midst of thick traffic…and I couldn’t see where I was going through the flames engulfing my windshield.

  The cruiser clipped a stationary delivery truck, sending my driver’s side mirror flying. A split second later, my windshield cleared, except for a smoky soot burn that was left behind. Axel was gone. I scanned the route I thought he would take, but there was no sign of him. It looked like the other Endr had used my momentary distraction to disappear into traffic.

  Behind me on Mystic, I could finally see the lights of my backup. I tried my radio again. No dice. With any luck, officers were coming from both directions on the Fellsway, too. But where was Axel?

  I slowed my pace and scanned the streets to my right. No sign down Grant Street and nothing down Wheatland, but when I looked down the street next to Foss Park, I managed to spot an older, traditional pickup that looked out of place as it drove past the more modern cars parked on Winter Hill. I jerked the wheel to my right, narrowly missing a family of five in an SUV. The SUV’s horn blared.

  The vehicle turned back onto Broadway and headed around the same set of blocks I had seen before. I was nearly certain it was Axel, meaning that despite the danger of being caught and detained, he was redoubling his efforts to catch Cam on his way to The Central. He’d simply switched to a vehicle the police weren’t currently looking for and slowed down to avoid attracting attention.

  A few moments later, I took the corner I’d seen the truck take, expecting to see Axel…but there was no sign of the truck. How had he managed a second shift of his vehicle in broad daylight? Or did he have an ability to somehow shield himself from view? I started to open the list of vehicle abilities to check when the realization struck me–who gave a shit what Axel was driving or what abilities his vehicle might have? I didn’t need to watch Axel. I needed to protect Cam.

  I floored it, driving faster than I ever had to Central Street and through my childhood stomping ground, down one side of Winter Hill and up toward Highland Ave. As I flew past parked cars, I felt a familiar deep fatigue settle into my bones. Sure enough, I could see now that my license status was back to yellow. Dispatch didn’t need to dole out any extra punishment for my actions against Axel. Simply refusing the fare brought back all my physical human frailty.

  I squealed to a stop in the parking lot, throwing the cruiser into park and opening the door simultaneously. I didn’t bother turning off the engine or closing the door. Instead, I sprinted toward my apartment building. I could see Cam’s BMW parked along the side street.

  As I bolted toward the door, the sound of a gunshot erupted, followed by the crash of breaking glass. I flinched, certain the bullet had been aimed at me, but I was unharmed. A second shot rang out. This time, I was able to identify precisely where the sound had come from.

  I looked up just as the windows of my apartment exploded outward to rain down on me.

  - - -

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