A Black Mass Over Highway Ninety Novels & Stories

Interstate 95. 3:00 AM. The rain blurred the streetlights into streaks of neon. A convoy of three armored prison trucks smashed through the police barricade, sending patrol cars spinning off the road. "We are clear," Zero sat in the passenger seat of the lead truck, holding a stolen radio. "ETA to the docks: twenty minutes." "Boss! Bogey at six o'clock!" The driver yelled. Zero looked in the side mirror. A pair of xenon headlights cut through the rain. A low, aggressive growl of a V12 engine shook the asphalt.

They have popped open. Through the twisted metal frame, I see the road above us. A truck has stopped. An armored truck. Massive. Black. A door opens. Boots hit the pavement. Heavy boots. Marching toward us.

Eасh ѕеаrсh hаѕ tо bе wаrrаntеd ѕо Rуаn іѕ taking a ѕеrіоuѕ rіѕk by hеlріng mе tоdау. “I gоt him, Blаkе. Whеrе are you?” “Pаrkеd оutѕіdе Cаlіbеr.” “Pеrfесt! Hе just lеft twеntу mіnutеѕ ago. Hе’ѕ оn thе Nеw Jеrѕеу turnpike. If you hurrу, you саn catch hіm.”

Then Valentine's long-awaited war with Belmonte and his chance for personal revenge would be lost. Once again, only the sound of the old engine filled the car. Learning that Valentine and Jerry considered the possibility of another attack to be quite high, Eugene's body tensed up again. Perhaps due to the tension causing adrenaline to be released, the aching pain in his body had disappeared. Highway 495 was a six-lane road with generally heavy traffic. Low concrete blocks divided the center line, so there was almost no possibility of an attacker's car rushing at them from the opposite direction like earlier.

I turned around and saw a black escalade pass the car behind us and come in behind us. "Who was that?" "It was Brodie. He forgot to tell me something is all." I kept glancing back and the escalade stayed with us and then parked across the street from the funeral home. "Something was up and those two were keeping it from me."

Everything is like a giant black T.b.c

The black SUV purred through the quiet Chicago streets, city lights sliding across the windows like liquid gold. Henry’s hand rested on Andrea’s thigh, fingers tracing slow, absent circles that sent little sparks racing up her skin. In the back seat, Mindy and Marcus were still riding the high of their narrow escape, voices overlapping in easy laughter.

POV: Jovan Bradford The engine of my black sedan roared, a predatory growl echoing against the empty stretch of the Florida coastal highway. I didn't give a damn about the speed limit. The needle climbed, blurring past eighty, then ninety, as I pushed the machine to its absolute limit. My knuckles were white against the leather steering wheel. My eyes darted across the asphalt, scanning every vehicle that dared to share the road with me. Where are you, Evelyn?

The driver calls out in pure panic, “Gage, wake your body up, look right in front of our path…” Ahead of our wheels, a sleek, giant black pack transport blocks the dirt road completely, trapping our vehicle in a tight vice.