“They will send the chopper after you ladies!” the DJ warns us.
“The chopper can only fly above us, it can’t catch us! ” Ami counters defiantly, then she
gauns on, “So long as we are still drivin, I’ll keep phoning you up to let you know ‘ow it’s
goin. If the people out there want to keep ‘earing about our journey, then they will keep
‘elping us. I’m leavin it all up to the good people of America,” Flattery will get ye
everywhere, Ami knows it well.
We’ve got another turn off comin up, Ah need tae focus cuz we’re headin out ov Cleveland
now and on tae the Interstate. Ah whisper as much tae Ami and she nods.
“And you think the people of America will support you?” The DJ asks. Stupit question.
All around us the noise picks up again.
“That sounds like your answer right there, mate. We’ve got to go now though, places to
see, people to meet and all that. I’ll phone back soon though, so byeee!” Ami is howlin wi
laughter as soon as she hangs up. Immediately the radio comes back on by itsel. We gie each
other another surprised look, but then Ah shrug and she leans forward tae turn it up.
“Well there you have it folks, you have been listening to an exclusive interview with the
world’s most audacious car thieves. The phone lines are open for your reactions and we’ll be
taking your calls right after this song. This goes out to those two crazy ladies… ”
Born to be Wild explodes out ov the radio. It’s no 90’s, but Ah’m no that bothered cuz it’s
an appropriate tune. We drive and we’re still being cheered and honked at as we go sailing
through the traffic that is lettin us pass. Ah hear the bark ov helicopter blades suddenly, so
we look up an see the chopper has arrived.
“If there’s any tunnels or that we can gaun through that would be handy,” Ah tell Ami. She
nods an starts fuckin aroun wi the GPS on her phone tae find us a way ov ditchin the chopper.
The buzz is still there, but now it’s time tae be serious.
The next coupla hours went by in a blur. Somehow we stayed ahead ov the polis and we
stayed ahead ov the chopper, then we managed somehow tae ditch them aw the gither. Oan
the radio loads ov people phone in tae talk about us, and there’s no many who say they don’t
like what we’ve done. There’s loads ov offers ov places tae stay, loads ov phone numbers
gushed out afore the DJ can stop them, but we decide no to tak any ov them in case wan is the
polis undercover. We’ll tak people at face value, but ye need tae see a face fur that.
America really is a fuckin big place tae travel through. It takes us mair than five hours jist
tae get tae the Kentucky border, we’re avoidin polis the whole way and tryin no tae drive
through any towns. It’s dark too, and the lights on the highway seem hypnotic with the way
they flash by us. White heidlights, red tail lights and yellow sodium lights. Ah almost fa’
asleep so Ami changes wi me, an Ah drag a bottle ov whisky out ov my rucksack and start
drinkin. The radio keeps blarin on, fillin the car up with some kind ov 60’s night tonight.
Janis comes on, singin Women is Losers while the new DJ talks about us.
“I guess you ladies are out there in the night somewhere, drivin down some dark highway,
goin wherever the hell it is you’re going. I bet you gals have some stories to tell, it takes a
special kind of crazy to do what you’ve done and I kinda salute that. I wanna know what’s
driven you to do this thing, I’d love to hear all about it,”
Aw fuck’s sake, he’s rabblin on like he gives a shit and Ah know it’s jist a load ov haver.
He disnae want tae hear about mah life, naebody wants tae hear about mah fuckin life. Mah
life has been shite and awful and full ov pain. Naebody wants tae hear that. Ah’m drunk
now, an ragin. Ah punch the dashboard, Ami swears at me and the radio changes channel.
Nirvana’s Serve the Servants is playin on the new channel. Seems like the Porsche only likes
“That bastard was full ov shite,” Ah tell Ami, runnin a soothin hand oer the dash board cos
the look ma pal is givin us is makin us feel guilty.
“When Ah says we wernae gaun tae hurt her, Ah fuckin meant it Keri. Dinnae fuckin
“Ah’m sorry. Ah willnae dae it again,” Ah tell Ami, then somethin weird that has been
naggin at mah brain aw afternoon finally makes it’s way tae intae mah conscious thoughts.
Ah glance down at the petrol gauge. The needle is pointin tae empty, and Ah wonder if it’s
been like that aw day for a second, then shake ma heid and turn back to Ami.
“We’re gaunnae hav tae stop for petrol. We’re runnin on fumes,”
“That last sign said we’re ten mile frae Cincinnati. D’ye think the petrol ye’ve got in yer
rucksack will get us that far?”
“Aye, it should,”
Ami pulls the Porsche over smoothly ontae the hard shoulder an Ah grab mah rucksack
and get out tae put the petrol in the car. Ah’m a wee bit unsteady on mah feet, and it’s a
fuckin faff tae get the stupid petrol can out ov my rucksack cos I cannae find the clips and
ties and aw that shite that is keepin the fuckin thing shut, but Ah manage it eventually. Cars
ghost by me on the highway, the paint work on the Porsche is muted in the artificial light so
naebody is recognisin her, and so naebody even slows down while Ah’m fuckin about tryin
tae get this petrol intae the car. Ah’m jist standin unscrewin the petrol cap when Ah catch
sight ov a polis cruiser in the wing mirror. The blue lights are flashin lazily on the top ov it,
so it’s no efter anybody, but Ah sure as fuck don’t want it recognisin us. And it’s not like it
will tak him long tae recognise the car if he stops for a look is it?
Ah shove the spout ov the petrol can intae the tank and tip it up so it pours quickly in. A
whole load ov it spills out down the side ov the car and ontae mah shoes so Ah swear.
“Whit the fuck are ye dain, Keri?” Ami shouts at me.
“Polis comin,” Ah reply, glancin back up the highway tae see the cruiser getting closer.
Ah know awready that he’ll see me before Ah manage tae finish putting the petrol in the car.
Then the fuckers lights start flashin at fu pelt and Ah know he’s seen us. He cuts through the
traffic on the road and moves towards us. The petrol is still gluggin sluggishly intae the tank,
and somewhere in the back ov mah heid Ah register that the tank disnae sound anywhere near
empty, but since that defies aw logic, Ah ignore it.
“Get ready tae start the car,” Ah shout tae Ami, shaking the fuckin petrol can tae hurry the
bastard up. It’s empty, the Cruiser is pullin up behind us, his heidlights picking up the
paintwork on the Porsche. Ah can hear him on his fuckin radio awready. Ah practically rip
the petrol can out ov the tank, fumble the cap back on while Ami starts the engine. That puts
the filth on alert, and he’s throwin open his car door and comin out with his fuckin gun
drawn. Can he shoot me? Ah hav tae wonder as Ah hastily pocket the keys and make to dive
back intae the Porsche. Ah’ve nae idea whit American polis are allowed tae dae wi their
“Get your hands in the air and turn around slowly!” he barks at me. Ah put one hand in
the air, wi ma middle finger emphatically extended. Ah’m bettin that he disnae really want
tae use that gun ov his, which Ah guess is a big gamble. He’s shoutin stuff Ah cannae hear as
Ah dive headlong intae the passenger seat. Ami is already tearin away when Ah pull the door
shut. There’s no gun shots, which is guid because we’d have jist turned round and had a go at
the pig if he hurt the car. Ah hear the sirens start up.
“We’d better get off the highway and try an stay away frae the city then,” Ami says, so Ah
pick up her phone and punch up the GPS, while Ami takes the first exit jist tae get us off the
Interstate. The polis is taken by surprise an disnae follow us immediately, but we both know
he’ll be on his radio gettin back up. The sign above reads Norwood and we turn into some
kind ov industrial area. Ah’m not keen on bein chased by the polis through city streets, an Ah
certainly don’t think Ami is. She might be better wi men, but Ah am better wi cars. Ah’ve
been obsessed wi fast cars and bikes since even before Ah got obsessed wi music, drugs and
Stay tuned for part five of Pearls On The Road next week!