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I knew I had to make my break soon - with my
knowledge of the Louisiana town I was in, the police station was only a couple
of miles down the road we were traveling on now. Gritting my teeth against
imminent pain, I brought my cuffed arms back and smashed them into the window as
hard as I possibly could. As luck would have it, the window splintered but
didn't shatter. Fortunately, the police officer in the front seat had the stereo
on blasting rap music, so he had no idea I was about to become an escapee. I hit
the window again and it broke, the pane falling out onto the road. Crouching on
the seat, I propelled myself out the window and did a neat shoulder roll on the
shoulder of the road.
The brake lights were already on, shining
bright pools of amber light on the pavement behind the Crown Victoria issue
police car. I leaped over the fence into a cow pasture and high-tailed it to the
other side. I could hear the overweight officer huffing and puffing behind me as
I quickly weaved my way through side streets and old buildings to disguise my
trail.
After two hours with no sign of pursuit, I dug
in my pockets for money and hopped a bus that ran all the way to Magnolia,
Arkansas. When the fare I deposited ran out, I was cordially shown my way off
the bus at a stop that happened to be located next to a Wal-Mart super center.
The proverbial light bulb flashed in my head and, hiding my hands under my
jacket, I moseyed my way into Wal-Mart down too the hardware section. Locating a
pair of bolt-cutters, I check my pockets once more and discovered that I had
just enough to purchase them.
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