Error

by Ásgrímur Hartmannsson

Chapter 15

'Error' synopsis

One day, Jonas, who has recently migrated to the city, discovers that all his records — including his assets — have been erased somehow. No longer able to get work, buy anything on credit or sell his now legally non-existent car, his life becomes a unique adventure.

After running for what seemed like an hour, Jonas regretted having parked his car so far away. Yet it had seemed to be within a reasonable distance when he parked it. Then again, it seemed that the further he ran, the further behind his chasers fell, being clearly slow runners, not to mention night-blind.

The car was hidden in the shadow behind a building; it could not be seen unless looked for specifically. Jonas did almost not find it again. But there it was; a darker patch in the dim shadow of the building. Jonas fumbled in his pocket for his keys and was quick to unlock the door.

Damn! Jonas thought. He had forgotten to lock the door when he left the car! And now he had locked it. He turned the key again and unlocked. Then he tore open the door and threw himself in. He was a bit slow with the key, still with the hammer in his hand, and did not get it in the ignition until after he had thrown the hammer onto the passenger seat.

The engine came to life normally, just as the thugs arrived. They jumped on the car. Jonas quickly locked both doors and hurried to put the car in gear.

Someone was trying to open the hatch — unsuccessfully. Jonas stepped on the accelerator, and the car sped off at an amazing pace. The man who had by this time placed himself on top of the rear hatch, fell off, hitting his face on it as he fell. The glass survived, and judging from the screaming, so had the man.

Tyres squealed as Jonas drove from behind the building and into the light of the street. The mountain cars were on their way there, Jonas could see them. The smaller one overshot the turn, but the larger one came lumbering his way.

Jonas floored the pedal and navigated out of the commercial area as quick as he could. The mountain car following him was not as quick, but it was a big car on very large wheels, and it could go a shorter distance by cutting corners. Jonas saw it run down a traffic signal at one corner.

And Jonas hit the freeway. He ran a couple of red lights, but nobody was around. Either get a ticket, or be run over by a truck, he thought. He figured he would not have to pay, not having an identity or a bank account to go with it. Why worry?

Jonas noticed that there were two cars waiting at a light in front of him. Worry. But then, he realized that he could just turn. So he did. Now, going downhill, he could go even faster. That was when he happened upon the police.

The police wagon flashed its lights at him, slowed down and began taking a U-turn. Jonas felt a chill go through his body. No use denying it. He was speeding. He had been going over 130 kilometres an hour when he passed the cop car.

The big Land Cruiser following him with its lights off hit the patroller squarely in the side. It was slowing down at the time, but it was still enough impact to break the side windows in the cop car. It was actually the impact and the elevation of the front bumper combined — at any rate, with the engine not fazed by the impact, the driver just accelerated again and pushed the patroller out of the way. The smaller Land Cruiser followed shortly after.

One can only imagine what the policemen thought of this event, but it was probably nothing good. They would surely call for backup. Flashing whatever lights remained, they started to give chase.

Jonas had to slow down at a roundabout, and going up the hill that came after it did not allow for as quick acceleration as going down the hill before. But he got his car up to 90 kph before he made his next turn.

He almost hit a car when he turned, and got beeped at as result. Nothing lethal — that was always good.

The two mountain cars were also forced to slow down, but not nearly as much, because they were slower to begin with. The driver of the leading car could see Jonas’ rear lights as he turned at the top of the hill, so he knew where to go. They had the guys in the Musso on the phone at that point, calling them for backup.

Somewhere in Smoky Bay, one of the quickest mountain cars in the whole country was burning rubber, coming their way fast.

Jonas rapidly approached another red light, this one holding back a little car: a Renault. Jonas slowed down but quickly saw it would not do and pressed harder and harder on the brakes until the wheels stopped spinning and he just slid on the icy tarmac. Not going any slower, he raised his foot, and the car started slowing down again. He was at a slow walking pace when he hit the waiting car.

Jonas backed away again. He saw the car. It was slightly damaged. He also saw that his lights were working. Good. He put in gear and hurried away, just as the other driver got out of his car. No good reporting this. He had neither the time nor the insurance.

The driver was still shouting insults at him when he was run over by the big Land-Cruiser. It got him right in the back, under the front wheel, squashing him against his car’s door, before rubbing violently against the front fender, nearly cutting off whole front corner off the car. Broken glass mingled with guts and blood. The little Renault skipped to the side, was thrown in gear, and drove itself across the street until it came to rest against a street light. The front bumper lay spinning in the middle of the street.

The little cruiser hit some of the guts and broke the front bumper in half. It had been just lying there, spinning, not bothering anyone.

Jonas turned at the last light and vent up a hill passing some garages. A large apartment building loomed over not far ahead.

The big cruiser was closer now, and it worried Jonas. He could see from where he was that it had sustained some damage. The smaller one followed shortly.

Jonas reached the top of the hill, and drove into a residential street. Here he could accelerate. Numerous signs said the speed limit was 30, but he was in a hurry. He knew that “avoiding serious bodily harm” would not hold up in court as an excuse if he got caught by the authorities, but he did not care. He floored it. The big cruiser was getting awfully close.

Jonas found out how unfamiliar he was with the layout of streets in the greater Smoky Bay area. No other street had as many speed-bumps as the one he was now navigating. And never had he driven as fast through a residential area before. The result was that he became airborne at every other bump; the ones in between let him slip over softly.

This was much harder on the big mountain car coming after him. It jumped up and bounced like an elastic ball at every bump, even the good ones, and was all over the road. The smaller cruiser behaved similarly, but the driver of that one had the mind to slow down at every bump. The police, still following them, only hit one at speed, then thought better of repeating it. The gumball lights fell off in the first one; they just did not want to run the risk of having anything more important falling off later.

Jonas just hoped his car would hold together and held the accelerator firmly to the floor. He made impressive distance at some of the bumps, resulting in some equally impressive jolts when he came down.

At one jump, his car began to sound different. It became noticeably louder. Jonas figured the muffler had come loose.

Finally this automotive torture came to an end and Jonas could breathe easier. In front was a steep hill, where the road led in a curve down to some areas he had only explored in daylight.

Jonas felt it would be best if he slowed down at this point, for nobody knows how roads in the city end. This one ended behind some commercial buildings, but not before crossing a little roundabout at the intersection. It had a mound on it, covered in small trees and what had been flowers during the summer. Jonas hit it at speed and hurtled into the road beyond, tyres squealing.

The big cruiser ran over the roundabout, crushing whatever plant life was there under its big wheels. The smaller one did same.

Somewhere else in the city, the driver of the Musso was being told he was going in the wrong direction.

Jonas found himself between a couple of ugly warehouse-looking commercial buildings. He went behind one of them, as the road seemed to offer that option and hurried on the main road again, flooring it all the way to the next light. There he figured he would just turn and go over the overpass, there entering the freeway into central Smoky Bay. He decided to go that way just because it was away from the guys who were after him, and he had seen that his car was the fastest of the bunch and would gain him some distance on the freeway.

The Hyundai’s tyres squealed as Jonas made the turn, his car careened over the road, over a divider between the lanes and smacked into the side of another car, a Honda Civic, waiting in line at the light there. It did not lose Jonas any momentum, and he was off, turning down to the freeway, tyres squealing even louder.

The persons in the Honda were shocked and pissed off. And they turned to give him chase just as the big Land Cruiser appeared. It, too, passed over the divider and hit them in the rear just as they were about to accelerate, pushing them before it down the ramp. The driver of the Honda tried as he could to keep straight in front of the mountain car for fear of being run over, which was a very real danger.

With the Honda lodged under it, the big cruiser could not move as fast or as nimbly as before, and this was a problem. Another more urgent problem arose when the little car caught fire. The driver of the big cruiser figured, that if he went over the median he could lose the attached car without losing momentum, and trusting that theory, he turned to the side.

The driver of the Honda did not want to go over the median, and turned away, forgetting his worries.

The little car became unstuck, got pushed away by the mountain car’s big wheel and slid into a street light. The driver of the mountain car lost control and the car slipped once on the median and hit the road on the other side with the driver with his feet firmly on the gas and the brake. The big car jumped sideways as its wheels got traction, and rolled. The roof was crushed under the two tons of steel and soundproofing. It went over to the wheels again, and like an elastic ball, jumped and toppled over again, coming to a stop upside down. It was hit almost immediately by a VW Golf GTI racing an Impreza. The driver never expected that to happen; he had been looking at the Impreza in his rear-view mirror when the obstacle appeared in front of him.

The big cruiser came to a stop, still upside down, by the side of the road. The Golf went off the road on the other side.

Jonas felt victorious when he saw the carnage in his rear view mirror. He quickly turned off the freeway again, into another residential area where he hid in a driveway, turned off the engine, and waited.

He waited for an hour, and aside from a couple of small cars making loud noises, nothing passed by.

He had lost them.

To be continued...

To Challenge 427...