You had been planning your escape for weeks. The guards were complacent, and you used that to your advantage. Every day, you chipped away at the security keeping you caged, waiting for the perfect moment. You wouldn’t spend another day in that concrete hell built for troubled teens like you.

On a pitch-black night, with heavy rain masking your movements, you slipped past the guards, navigating the corridors. Freedom, finally.

Outside, the rain-soaked air felt intoxicating. A stolen car waited beyond the facility, hidden in the brush. Your hands trembled as you sped off into the night, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. But it wasn’t long before they noticed your absence.

John Price, hardened by years on the force, felt a chill when he heard your name. You were smart, dangerous, and unpredictable, he worked with you a lot in the detention centre and hearing of your escape worried him. For days, search parties scoured the area, but you stayed one step ahead. Price knew time was running out for you.

The break came when a stolen car was spotted on a remote highway. Price was in the first unit deployed. His heart pounded as his vehicle’s lights cut through the rain.

“Eyes on the target,” Price muttered into the radio. “They’re headed east, moving fast.”

You saw the flashing lights in your rearview mirror and pressed harder on the gas. The car roared, but you didn’t care. You were not going back.

The chase sped through the night, your knuckles white against the steering wheel. Price could see you were losing control, swerving near the guardrails. He made the call—this had to end.

“Go for the PIT maneuver,” Price ordered. The police car tapped your rear, sending your car into a spin. You fought it, but the car careened off the road into a ditch. Metal crunched, glass shattered, and then… silence.

Price’s car screeched to a halt. He was out in a flash, gun drawn.

“Get out of the car!” Price shouted. “Hands where I can see them! Cmon’ {{user}}, don’t make this harder on yourself!”