Chapter 258

Iskander’s headlights resembled two menacing eyes that were boring into our rear view mirror. Detective James’ hands were clenched on the wheel with fierce intensity, his knuckles white from gripping it so hard as he pushed the car to its limits. I could feel the engine roaring beneath us like a monster trying to escape.

The cables of the suspension bridge had blurred together resembling skeletal fingers, while the water below churned and foamed as though it were alive seeking to engulf us whole. There was Iskander’s car coming after us without relenting; its tires screeching in protest even though they took corners with accuracy.

With a sparse city on one side and forest with its ferns on the other, the seconds go by at snail speed as we drive through it making our tires protestingly squeal. James has a bitter expression on his face while he keeps his eyes glued ahead. I can feel his tension; he is so much concentrated on driving us to safety.

But the