Deja Vu (2)

She crested the mountain and was swept onto Mulholland Drive, the winding ribbon of road that ran along the spine of the Hills. The dark, hunched shapes of houses whipped past, first on one side, then on the other. In those houses were people who had no part in any of this. The thought seemed unreal.

The patrol car, dome lights blazing, siren wailing, rear-ended her again. Go Ara was flung forward in her seat, the Toyota wobbling drunkenly toward the white guardrail. Beyond the rail, nothing but black space and a sheer drop. The

Toyota  thudded into the rail and skidded along it with a screech of tortured metal, shooting up white pinwheels of sparks. She spun the wheel hard to the left and swung back onto the road.

The siren was abruptly cut off. "Got you now, you bitch!" boomed a thunderous male voice, God's voice, loud in the sudden stillness. "Got you now!"

Jesus, what the hell....?