Sour Grapes

trottin’ out to his car. Jake eats too damned much pizza.”
    This, from a guy whose decrepit Buick was a repository for a year’s worth of junk-food wrappers and fast-food sacks. Dirk hadn’t seen his rear floorboards since he had bought the Skylark in 1969.
    Savannah speeded up a bit, keeping the two sets of taillights ahead well in sight. Other than a couple of eighteen-wheelers, they and the gangsters had the Ventura Freeway all to themselves. Recalling the hard, cold look in the leader’s eyes and the dead expressions on the other kids’ faces, she felt a shiver of healthy fear. She would be glad when the cavalry reinforcements arrived.
    Like a fairy godmother’s wish come true, three cruisers magically appeared in her rearview mirror. “Good goin’, Jake,” she whispered. ‘They’re he-e-e-re,” she told Dirk. “You’ve got backup.”
    “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”
    “No way. I’m just the chauffeur along for the ride. Shall I move closer?”
    Dirk looked over his shoulder, observing the units that were quickly closing the gap. “Where the hell are you, Jake?” he shouted into the phone. “You want a piece of this or not?”
    Turning back to Savannah, he said, ‘Jake’s north of us... about ten miles. They’re closing off the freeway, in case they run when we try to stop ‘em.”
    The three SCPD cars pulled even with them, one on each side of the Mustang and the third behind. Savannah cursed her lack of a radio to communicate with them and rolled down her window. The officer riding in the passenger seat did the same. “ The Acura and the Lexus, right?” he shouted.
    She stuck her head out the window, and the night air whipped her hair into her eyes and took her breath away. “Yeah,” she said. ‘Three passengers in each. Gang-bangers... armed-robbery suspects.”
    Dirk leaned across her and yelled, “May have an Uzi. Watch yourself.”
    The officer nodded. “We’ll surround them, light ‘em up, and announce. You guys take the left rear.”
    Savannah gave him a nod. “Gotcha.” She rolled the window back up and, in unison with the patrol cars, increased speed until they had closed the gap between them and their targets.
    The robbers’ cars were side by side, the Lexus in the middle lane, the Acura in the fast lane. It took less than five seconds for the police to take their positions, one unit to the right, one on the left shoulder, another behind the Lexus and the Mustang behind the Acura. Blue-and-red revolving lights began to flash. A siren gave a couple of short shrieks.
    “Hey, Van... been a while since you’ve done this sort o’ take-down,” Dirk remarked.
    Savannah could hear it in his voice, the adrenaline-pumped charge of the chase. Her own pulse was pounding in her ears, her mouth was dry, her palms wet ‘Yeah, a long time,” she said, her eyes on the car ahead— major tunnel vision.
    “Cool, huh?”
    She grinned... a little. Yeah, way cool. If we don’t get killed.”
    At that moment, the three patrol cars directed high-powered spotlights on the suspects’ cars, lighting up the interiors so brightly, they could clearly see each occupant The gangsters’ heads were whipping right and left, as they sized up their situation: Grim.
    “They look a little shook,” Dirk said, a smirk on his face.
    Savannah nodded. “Shook is good. Shook is how we want them.”
    A deep, authoritative voice boomed from a loudspeaker. “Drivers, this is the San Carmelita Police Department. Bring your vehicles to a slow, controlled stop. Now, drivers. Slow your vehicles and come to a complete stop.”
    Savannah glanced in her rearview mirror. Not a headlight in sight. Jake must have had the freeway closed behind them, too.
    Not that it would matter. The kids weren’t stopping. “They’re not even slowing down,” she said.
    “Did you really expect them to?”
    She shrugged. “Yeah, but I also believe in the tooth fairy, and that I’m going to marry Mel Gibson someday, so...”
    Suddenly, the robbers’ cars shot forward. Dirk swore and Savannah pressed her gas pedal to the floor. Thanks to Ray the mechanic, she had no problem keeping up, even when they reached 90 mph. Neither did the cops, who maintained their positions on each side, lights still flashing, more sirens blaring.
    “Morons,” Dirk said, hanging on to the console and armrest. “Where do they think they’re gonna go? Have you got plenty of gas, Van?”
    “Over half a tank. We’re in there for the long