Mina Cortez: From Bouquets to Bullets by Jeffrey Cook Page B

able to catch up to the truck directly, but she might be able to
cut it off if she could guess its route correctly. Figuring out his
most direct route to an exit, she turned down an alleyway, taking
shortcuts on her bike that a larger vehicle couldn't.
    Pedaling as fast as she could, she used every
alley and quiet side street she could to allow her to not need to
slow down. She crossed streets far away from crosswalks and lights
with their monitor cameras, and headed down her best-guess
intercept route. She saw the truck coming as she emerged back into
heavier traffic zones, nearing the on ramp. With her bike, she
couldn't cut through heavy traffic to get to him, and knew if he
reached the freeway, she would lose him so she headed for the
stairs of the last foot-bridge he'd have to pass under.
    People jumped out of her way as she biked up
the steep stairway. Reaching the top, she could just see the truck
reaching the bridge. With no time to stop and assess, she let her
chip handle all of the speed calculations and headed for the side
of the bridge. Pedaling hard as she could to get up to speed, she
pulled her feet off the pedals, stood up on her bicycle seat like
some kind of stunt rider, and let her front wheel crash into the
railing. The impact catapulted her off her bike and over the edge.
She hit the top of the delivery truck, and immediately started
rolling backwards to break her fall. The truck's momentum, combined
with the instinctive breakfall, almost caused her to go falling off
the back of the truck, but she managed, at the last second, to fall
forward, finding a few points where metal met metal as
finger-and-toe-holds.
    The truck picked up speed from the ramp,
making forward movement difficult. Still, she managed to find
enough hand and footholds to pull herself along. She had to adjust
again to keep herself from going careening off the side when the
truck merged onto the freeway. Car horns blared as people tried
warning the driver someone was on his truck. She did her best to
stay out of his mirrors, inwardly cursing the helpfulness of the
average driver.
    She finally pulled herself to the front edge
of the cargo container, near the cab on the passenger's side. She
was almost out of breath, her arms and fingers ached, but she found
enough adrenaline for one more burst of quick movement. She pulled
herself forward and over the edge, managing to grab the mirror and
get a hand inside the open passenger window, while her feet found
the thin running board. The driver startled, turning her way. As he
did, whether out of intent or simply reaction, the truck veered off
the road and towards the metal roadside barrier. Mina pulled
herself up and through the window just in time to keep her legs
from being crushed as metal met metal.
    The driver started to pull left, away from
the barrier. Not wanting him back out in traffic, Mina grabbed the
wheel with one hand and yanked it right, keeping them skidding
along the barrier. While fighting for control of the wheel, she
found the parking brake and yanked on it. With a horrendous
grinding, the truck jerked, throwing both of them forward. Mina
managed to stay low, crashing against the dashboard, then under it.
The driver wasn't as fortunate, and his chest hit the steering
wheel. As the truck skidded to a halt, Mina punched the man once
under the jaw, sapping any remaining consciousness. Guided by her
chip, she quickly policed the scene. Everything she'd touched was
wiped, and her hands were pulled up into her delivery jacket
sleeves. As other cars were stopping for a look, she pulled her
arching body out of the passenger side window, hit the ground, and
let herself roll into the shallow ditch. She took advantage of the
spectacle of a car wreck to draw attention away from herself,
heading the opposite way of most people. Her current colors had
been seen clinging to the side of a truck. Using a couple larger
cars for cover, she righted her jacket, fixed her hair, and tried
to move