"Thank God, you okay?"

"I'm surprised, the car came through okay. I'm on a back street."

"I'm in my vehicle now and already halfway there. Which way did you turn after you busted through?"

"Left, I guess."

"Okay, that's away from town. Make a U-turn and head back. Stay on that back road. I'll cut over and meet you. You'll see my flashing lights coming up right in front of you in a couple of minutes. Then you'll be safe."

"Well, don't hit me, one headlight is out." Before she could turn, there was a thunderous crash. With a bouncing flash of headlights, the huge vehicle roared down the slope just behind her. She pushed the accelerator pedal hard against the floorboard. The tires spun on the dirt road for a second, then caught, and the little car shot ahead down the dark back road.

"He's on my tail, Chip. And I'm going away from you. I'm heading out into the country. This car could outrun him, if I could see through the windshield."

"Don't try to speed on that dirt road, there's a roadside canal along there. Just try to keep in front of him until I catch up." He grabbed his microphone, "Dispatch this is David Three. Code three. Request you get an ambulance moving west on Milkrun Road, west of the Jardin Café. Not on the main highway, on Milkrun! I'll tell you how far west in a minute, just get rolling out here. David Three en route."

She barreled ahead on the unfamiliar dirt road, trying to see the road with a broken headlight and a cracked windshield. "He's gaining on me. Really close now. He's enormous, I'm just a little speck compared to that monster. Feels like searchlights shining down on me. Geez, he bumped me. Again. He keeps hitting me! He's smashing my trunk. Chip, he's going to drive right over me!"

Goddard heard her phone go dead. He was now on Milkrun Road. His siren blared as he sped down the dirt road. He strained to see any taillights ahead. He pushed his speed. As he passed behind the restaurant, there was no time to swerve to miss the broken fence boards in the road. He rumbled across them like train tracks.

Ahead now was a low wall of dust. His headlights glared back from the dust cloud like fog, forcing him to slow. He cursed and pounded on the steering wheel with his fist. He strained to stare ahead into the swirling blur, forced to drive much slower now.

Then ahead, there through the dust, he could make out taillights-large lights, high off the ground. Now guided by those taillights, he started gaining. Goddard had drag raced on this road in his teens. He knew every bump and curve. Dust or no dust, he could catch any vehicle made on this road.




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