Chapter 7 - The Red Line
The next fifteen minutes were a blur of screeching tires, flashing highway markers, and sheer adrenaline. Tyler drove like a man possessed, weaving through late-night freight trucks on Interstate 80, pushing our family sedan far beyond its limits.
Behind us, the black pickup stayed relentless, revving its engine, trying repeatedly to creep up along our blind spot. Whoever was behind the wheel didn't care about traffic laws or the lives inside our car; they were hunting.
"He's trying to run us off the shoulder!" Tyler yelled, bracing the wheel as the truck swerved aggressively toward our left rear bumper.
"Stay in the center lane!" I yelled back, unbuckling my seatbelt just enough to reach into the baby's car seat. I began performing gentle infant chest compressions with two fingers, praying aloud. "Come on, baby girl. Breathe. Stay with me. Come on!"
Up ahead, blue and red neon signs pierced the gloom: *St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital - Emergency Entrance 1 Mile.*
"Tyler, call 911 right now on the speaker!" I commanded. "Tell them an armed pursuer is attempting to ram our vehicle as we enter the hospital emergency bay!"
Tyler hit the steering wheel button, screaming the information to the operator. As we took the off-ramp at breakneck speed, the siren of a patrol car stationed near the hospital intersection suddenly wailed to life.
Seeing the police cruiser whip out from behind the junction, the driver of the black pickup realized he had walked into a trap. With a violent screech of burning rubber, the truck swerved across three lanes, blew through a red light, and sped away into the darkness of the county highway.
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Tyler slammed the brakes just outside the sliding glass doors of the ER bay. Security guards and medical staff rushed out into the cold night air as Tyler kicked open his door.
"Help us!" he roared. "She's not breathing!"
