Hackers and Hotties -a serial

Swimming into Barrels

Celine examined the two scruffy men sitting beside her in the back of Fishy's rusty Jeep out of the corner of her eye. Tina's friend was at the wheel, with Tina beside him, not at all concerned that she had left her best friend stuck next to a couple of Manson wannabes.

One of the men, the one with orange hair and something metallic through his cheek caught her staring and grinned, showing off a couple of filed fangs. Celine shivered and turned her gaze to the window, watching the small city begin to light up as the sun eventually fell behind the horizon. Whatever she had done to get into this mess, she was sorry. If Celine got out of all this alive, she knew the first thing she would do was to find a church and pray.

"So, Tina, what did you get into this time?" Fishy asked.

"Nothing much, just pissed a couple people off and need to lay low for a while."

Fishy snickered. "Pissed them off? Like how?"

"Like, pissed them off, that’s how."

"Right."

The orange haired man grinned and shook his head before diving his hand into his jacket pocket. Remembering the men’s' reaction in the ally, Celine did her best to press herself against the door and felt for the handle, just in case she needed to dive for her life.

The other passenger, a lanky, scruffy guy with a leather jacket that was more holes than leather smiled and reached into his own pocket as well, pulling out a box of matches. The orange head pulled out some cigarettes, and Leather Jacket lit them.

"Guys, no smoking in the Jeep." said Fishy, turning to pluck the cigs from their mouths.

"Come on Brad, you're such a square," Moaned Orangehead.

"Square? Who the hell says square anymore?" Retorted Leather Jacket

"I do, numbnuts, so screw off."

"You first Jay."

With a grunt, Orangehead, or Jay, punched Leather Jacket in the shoulder. Leather Jacket punched back. Soon the two were pounding on each other and Fishy and Tina were laughing. Celine didn't find anything funny about her present situation at all, at any moment Jay would get thrown into her and they both would collapse rolling on the pavement as the Jeep sped away.

Instead, there was a horrible screech of tires and all three back passengers found themselves thrown forward. Jay almost went through the front windshield, and lay groaning on the stickshift as Celine and Leather Jacket crawled back into their seats and buckled up.

"What the hell was that?" Leather Jacket demanded, but both Fishy and Celine were silent, their eyes fixed firmly on a collection of headlights facing them.

"Jay, move." Fishy whispered, still staring ahead.

With a grunt, the man dragged himself off the stickshift and onto his seat where he started groping for his seatbelt. The second the stickshift was free, Fishy had it in reverse, and Jay was yet again thrown to the ground as the Jeep spun a one eighty.

There was a screeching of tires behind them now, and Celine looked out the back windshield. Three cars, with tinted windows and blinding headlights raced toward the Jeep, taking up both lanes so that already a car had run into a building trying to avoid them.

"Who did you piss off again?" Fishy asked calmly as he sent the Jeep screeching through a sharp turn.

"Oh just a bunch of Yakuza I think."