Page 1 of Outrun The Devil
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.