Outrun the devil, p.1
Outrun The Devil, page 1
Outrun the Devil
V.L. Summers
Copyright © 2023 V. L. Summers
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover design by: V. L. Summers
Edited by: Kyare Betzing
Trigger Warnings
Please note that these trigger warnings are provided to ensure that readers can make informed choices about engaging with the content. If you have any specific concerns or sensitivities, please exercise caution while reading.
Violence: This story contains scenes of physical violence, including fights, confrontations, and intense action sequences.
Kidnapping and Captivity: The protagonist of the story was kidnapped in the past, and there are references and descriptions of the traumatic experience. As well as a character within the story will be kidnapped.
Blood and Gore: The story includes graphic depictions of injuries, bloodshed, and wounds.
Death and Loss: The narrative involves themes of death and loss, including the death of characters and the emotional impact it has on the protagonist.
Supernatural Elements: The story explores supernatural beings and their abilities, including vampires, werewolves, and other paranormal elements.
Psychological Trauma: The main character grapples with past trauma and its psychological effects, including anxiety, fear, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Sexual Content: The book includes scenes of a sexual nature, which may not be suitable for all readers. Please exercise discretion.
Strong Language: This story contains the use of strong language and profanity throughout.
Drug and Alcohol Use: There are instances of characters consuming drugs or alcohol, which are depicted in the story.
To all the dreamers and believers,
who find solace and adventure within the pages,
this book is dedicated to you.
May it ignite your imagination and touch your soul.
Contents
1. Prologue
2. Chapter One
3. Chapter Two
4. Chapter Three
5. Chapter Four
6. Chapter Five
7. Chapter Six
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
15. Chapter Fourteen
16. Chapter Fifteen
17. Chapter Sixteen
18. Chapter Seventeen
19. Chapter Eighteen
20. Chapter Nineteen
21. Chapter Twenty
22. Chapter Twenty-One
23. Chapter Twenty-Two
24. Chapter Twenty-Three
25. Chapter Twenty-Four
26. Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Like any other case with a rabbit, Detective Olivia Collins chased full tilt after them. Her footsteps echoed off the alley walls along with Detective Tim Markham’s following close behind her. Olivia didn’t have to glance back to confirm his unwavering presence. They had been partners since day one. Trust was not an issue.
Only moonlight lit the alleyway, it barely allowed her to see a few feet in front of her. And even though Olivia had done this a million times, it didn’t stop her heart from racing. The pounding of Tim’s footsteps receded. She glanced behind her and found only darkness. Panic laced her steps but she trusted her partner. If he no longer followed, it meant he’d found a way to cut off the suspect.
Olivia burst from the alley onto the street. Streetlights flickered, creating warping shadows and deepening her sense of unease. An urge made her look behind her again, a sense of something wrong. Yet, like before, there was only darkness. The moon could only light so much.
Her mind kept replaying a premonition from earlier—an all-too-familiar scene of violence and tragedy, shrouded in mystery. A warning or merely paranoia? The uncertainty weighed heavily on Olivia and only added to the fear that threatened to paralyze her.
When the premonitions began to haunt her, Olivia didn't know what to make of them. She thought perhaps the lack of sleep fueled the relentless onslaught of intrusive images, but even after taking time to rest, they persisted. In fact, at the time the redhead was quite certain she was going crazy. As anyone would. Between the exhaustion from juggling her demanding job and the responsibilities of being a single mother to her daughter, fear became such a frequent visitor.
Their origin remained a mystery, leaving her perplexed and uncertain. But she’d learned over time the visions came true often enough that maybe using them to get the upper hand in cases seemed the obvious choice. With no clear answers and no one to turn to for guidance, Olivia cautiously embraced them as a tool to aid her investigations. Yet, she couldn't fully place her trust in precognition. For one, it wasn’t always a steadfast guide. And two, she had always based everything on facts, making her view each vision with a healthy dose of skepticism. Not every image that flashed before her eyes would lead her to the truth. It required a delicate balance of intuition, deduction, and discernment—acknowledging their potential while remaining cautious of their limitations.
Olivia had learned to rely on her instincts and years of experience.
Though she saw no sign of the suspect, Olivia exposed herself stepping out onto the street. Her breath came out in shallow bursts. Tim was still nowhere to be seen.
A fog crept over the street, making visibility harder than it already was. Olivia was unable to shake the feeling that she was in some kind of horror movie and a monster was about to jump out and gobble her up.
Blue eyes darted to every shadow, every corner until she spotted a figure.
Olivia took a step forward, only for it to be unsteady as her vision blurred and images flashed before her. A man running, shadows, and a flash of light. The image changed and she saw Tim, his face contorted in pain and confusion.
Coming out of the premonition, Olivia found herself on the street itself. Fear forced her to look for any oncoming cars, and as luck would have it – there were none.
Every muscle in Olivia's body tensed as she crept forward into the alleyway across the street.
“Drop your weapon,” she demanded, her hand on the hilt of her service weapon. “Drop your weapon.”
The figure stepped out from the shadows and charged toward her. “Stop.” But the figure did not stop.
With a single movement, Olivia raised her weapon and fired without hesitation. The gunshot cut through the air like a thunderbolt, reverberating in her soul and sending echoes of doubt across her conscience. Time seemed to stand still as the perpetrator fell to the ground, yet when the smoke cleared, something was wrong. It wasn't the criminal who collapsed—it was Tim, her partner and friend. All of Olivia's fears had come true—she had misread her vision and cost someone dearly.
She ran to him, throwing herself onto her knees beside him. Hand on top of the hand, Olivia pressed down on the gunshot wound. The wound she’d caused.
“No, no, no, no, don’t die on me, Tim. Do you hear me? Don’t die.” Her vision was blurring from the streams that fell from her eyes.
“Officer down, I repeat office down,” she rasped into her radio.
“It’s okay,” Tim whispered and a sob released from her mouth. An ugly sob.
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “I shot you.”
“Tell Rebecca… Tell her… I love her.” He grasped for breath between speaking.
“Shhh, shhh, you can tell her yourself. You are not dying,” Olivia demanded, determined to not face the truth of the moment. Her partner was dying and it was her fault.
As Tim slipped away from her grasp, guilt gnawed at Olivia's heart, reminding her that she had paid too heavy a price for her mistakes.
When the ambulance arrived, and the paramedics urged her aside, Olivia watched the world around her shatter and fall to the ground like a rain of glass shards. She felt as if she were in a nightmare, and her cries of anguish mixed with the wailing of sirens in the distance. The weight of her mistake pressed down on her with a vengeance, crushing all that remained of her sanity.
The aftermath of that tragic moment was a haze of guilt. Tears stained her face and her heart was heavy with sorrow. She couldn't get past the questions that constantly haunted her. But one thing rang true, this was her fault.
Tim died because of her.
In the days that followed, Olivia reacted and moved out of instinct and routine. Going through the motions, nodding her head to words she didn’t process. The captain rightfully made her attend therapy before she could return to the field. Olivia considered hanging up her badge and gun, walking away now before she screwed up again. Perhaps Tim’s death meant she wasn’t meant to do this.
A cacophony of grief enshrouded the funeral. Olivia felt like an outsider among the sea of mourners swaying in their collective sorrow. She hugged her chest tightly, feeling the weight of what she had done press upon her. The heavy stares of those around her made it difficult to breathe, she could feel the judgment and pity battering against her skin.
Olivia stood over the casket, staring at the face that was her partner. She barely registered that her captain came up beside her. Captain Mike Colson had always been a guiding light in her career.
Mike placed a gentle hand on Olivia's shoulder, offering a small measure of comfort. His voice was filled with empathy as he spoke.
“Olivia, I know you're carrying the weight of this on your shoulders, but ya can’t beat yourself up. It could have happened to anyone.”
Olivia's eyes welled up with tears as the guilt consumed her but she shoved it back into the depths. Letting guilt consume her felt like the easy way out. Punishment, that’s what she deserved. Olivia fully intended to turn in her gun and badge.
“But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me, to Tim.” She shook her head.
Mike's expression softened, his voice held a depth to it, a quiet power that came from his soul. It is a voice that can deliver difficult truths with compassion and understanding.
“Tim knew the risks when he joined the force, just as you do. We all face dangers every day. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, tragedy strikes.”
The weight of her guilt threatened to crush Olivia's spirit. Her voice choked with emotion as she responded.
“But I let him down, Mike. He trusted me, and now he's gone. His wife and his family are left without him because of me.”
Mike's grip on her shoulder tightened, offering both support and understanding.
“Olivia, you're an exceptional detective. But even the best can't control every outcome. We rely on each other, but we also have to accept the things that are beyond our control.”
Olivia's tear-filled eyes locked with Mike's, seeking solace and reassurance.
In a barely audible whisper, she confessed her burden.
“I can't shake this feeling of responsibility. Tim had so much to live for, and now...”
Mike's voice carried a note of strength and conviction as he interrupted her self-blame.
“You're not alone in this, Olivia. We're all here for you. Tim knew the risks, and he trusted you as his partner. Don't let guilt consume you.”
Taking a deep breath, Olivia fought to steady herself amidst the overwhelming grief. She wanted to escape those feelings, but they’d become part of her now. Instead of eschewing her visions, Olivia decided to fully embrace them, understand them, and control them. She knew the value her unique ability held as a force for good, and they could aid her in seeking out truth and justice. If she could control it, she could make some meaning from the tragedy. Though an arduous journey filled with inner turmoil and conflict, it would help her find closure and peace.
Days turned into weeks as Olivia retreated deeper into herself, unable to accept what happened. She wrapped herself in her gift - which felt more like a curse, exploring every crevice for understanding and redemption. She poured through obscure books on mysticism, spoke to psychics and mediums alike. Anything to find some semblance of solace.
Olivia had never fully trusted her visions and intuition, but the more she studied them, the more she was confronted with their complexity.
The fleeting premonitions gave ambiguous glimpses of the future that could be interpreted in many ways, and she knew all too well how easily she might misinterpret them. A wave of guilt washed over her every time she remembered Tim's death, an outcome she could have avoided if only she'd listened to her doubts.
Chapter One
The metallic smell of blood filled her nostrils, and she could taste the coppery tang on her tongue. Officers and forensic techs stood crowded around the room, silently surveying the damage of this tragedy. Detective Olivia Collins ignored them. She had to. The visions weren’t something she could control and they didn’t show up all the time. But it always required her to focus. Focus so she could hear the untold story of the dead body before her, the victim still had a voice even if no one could hear it.
Collins believed that even in death, a body held the story of a life once lived, and it was her job to listen carefully and piece together every detail, no matter how small, to bring justice to the victim. As she surveyed the room, the familiar sense of sorrow weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Long ago when she had been a rookie detective, she had been exposed to violent crime too early in her career and been numbed by the senselessness of so many deaths.
It had taken her years to shake off what had happened and feel again. Now as an experienced detective, she was able to enter a scene with a clear mind and focus on the task at hand: bringing justice to the victim.
Wallis Mayer's story was just one thread in the intricate tapestry of Olivia Collins's career, a testament to her unwavering commitment to uncovering the untold stories of those she encountered. It was what she did best, and she wouldn't stop until every story found its voice and every truth was laid bare.
The scorching Arizona summer intensified the already potent smells, adding an extra layer of discomfort to the atmosphere. The heavy air carried the sharp scent of dried desert plants, mingling with the stale odor of concrete and asphalt. It was as if the heat had magnified every aroma, making them more pronounced and invasive. The sweat that dripped down her face reminded her that it didn’t matter how much deodorant she put on, body odor with this heat went hand in hand.
Olivia found herself inhaling shallow breaths, trying to minimize her exposure to the overwhelming olfactory assault. Sweat trickled down her forehead, adding its distinct tang to the mixture of scents. She longed for a cool breeze or even a hint of rain to cleanse the air and offer some respite from the stifling summer heat.
No matter how many lifeless bodies Olivia had encountered throughout her career as a detective, the putrid stench of death remained just as nauseating as the first time.
Each time she approached a crime scene, her senses were assaulted by the sickly-sweet odor of decay, the unmistakable sign that someone's life had been abruptly extinguished.
It was a reminder of the fragility of existence, a stark contrast to the vibrant and bustling world outside the crime scene tape. Olivia had developed a coping mechanism to keep her composure intact, but the smell always managed to stir a flicker of unease deep within her. It was a constant reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, a reminder that evil could strike anywhere, at any time.
The loss of life hung over the scene like a misty fog, chilling her to the bone. Her eyes mapped out each detail, a discarded bowl with half-eaten cereal and a spoon on the counter. A book thrown down in anger next to an armchair and a tissue box for when we cry ourselves to sleep at night alone. Everything told its tale.
One uniformed officer nudged his colleague, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Watch this,” he whispered, making sure his companion was paying attention.
It had become somewhat of a routine for them, finding amusement in observing how Detective Olivia Collins conducted her initial scan of a crime scene. And without fail, there was always a skeptic among their ranks, someone who doubted her unique approach. And unique was certainly the word for it.
Detective Collins guarded her visions with utmost secrecy, keeping them hidden from prying eyes and curious minds.
It was a clandestine aspect of her life that she shared with only one person she trusted implicitly: her captain. In a profession where trust was a rare and precious commodity, their bond ran deep, forged through years of shared experiences and unwavering loyalty.
Once, it had been her partner who had stood by her side, serving as a confidant and companion. But life had a way of altering the course of destiny, and circumstances had led them down divergent paths. Yet, the connection between Olivia and her captain endured, their unspoken understanding serving as a silent testament to the unbreakable trust they held for one another.
He’d become like family, in truth. Olivia wasn’t sure what she’d do without his guidance, or what her daughter would do without him as her father figure. Gratitude didn’t begin to cover how she felt.
Olivia moved around the room slowly, taking time to study each feature like an artist examining their subject before beginning a new work.
Her eyes traced over the grooves in the wood floor, feeling the marks left by struggle.
