Prompt : 500 words. High speed chase. Must be fast paced.

Fuck.

What was that thing?

Ethan took the fence in two bounds, chain link rattling behind him as he landed hard on the frozen ground. There was a small tear in his shirt, but he didn't stop to check for blood, just booted it down the hill until he reached Union street.

His lungs were burning, the taste of copper crawling up his throat. He couldn't keep going.

'One more block', he told himself. 'Just one more block. You can stop when you hit Main.'

He sprinted across Union, rubber soled Adidas pounding the pavement so fast one misstep would probably break his nose. He rounded the corner on Main and went sprawling as a gunshot cracked through the air.

"Son of a--" he swore. He looked up, past the glare of a streetlight. "What the fuck, Sean?"

"Shit, man. Sorry," came the reply. "I thought maybe you was that thing."

Ethan glanced at his bloodied palm before wiping it off on his thigh.

"Help me up, fuckstick," he said, "and put that fucking gun away before you shoot your dick off."

Sean tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and stuck out a hand.

"You seen Carl?" he asked, pulling Ethan up.

"Not since the tunnels," Ethan replied. "What about Lucy? You seen her?"

Sean ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"She's dead, man," he answered.

Ethan stared at him. "Dead? What the fuck do you mean dead?"

"I don't know, man," Sean replied. "That thing, it--it fucking ate her or something."

"Are you sure?"

Sean swallowed. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Fuck." He put his hands over his face and closed his eyes. He'd liked Lucy. Best Roper in town.

A grinding noise brought his head back up sharply.

"Shit," he said, grabbing Sean by the arm and propelling him forward. "Let's go!"

They bolted down the street.

Seeing an open parking garage, Ethan sprinted down the ramp.

"In here!" he called over his shoulder.

Without slowing he rolled under the barricade and darted past the ticket booth. He could hear Sean's heavy breathing behind him as they shot past rows of cars. The sound of splintering wood and the grating of metal let him know it had passed the barricade. It was catching up. They couldn't outrun it.

Ducking behind a grey Toyota Venza with a dented fender, Ethan motioned for Sean to follow him. Slowly, he got on all fours and lowered himself onto his stomach. Inch by careful inch, they crawled under the SUV. A metallic cough came from the row of cars one lane ahead and the smell of sulfur crept towards him. His heart beat a rapid staccato against his ribcage. Sean's mouth was moving, but no sound came out. A sound like a thousand garbage compactors pressed in on them.

Don't see us. Don't see us.

The car flipped up.

Fuck.