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NORA-JANE JACKSON pressed down on the gas, hitting 90 mph. It was a little risky on these older back roads, but she was determined and excited. She glanced over the two photocopies on the passenger seat. She had no idea if this far-fetched lead from Chet Calhoun would pan out. But at least something was being done for all those missing children. Months and months of pressing the authorities had done little good. Experience told her to keep pressing until something gave.
A low mechanical growl took her out of her thoughts. Nora-Jane looked in her rearview mirror. She could see a vehicle far behind her, too far to tell her who it was. Then again, she had been living elsewhere for years and couldn't identify the locals by their vehicles like she could before she went away.
Her thoughts went back to the photocopies on the passenger seat. Everybody here knew about the treasure legends, but she wondered if people would be so low as to harm children over protecting caches. Then again, in the years since she'd been away, she covered a lot of people who were willing to do a lot of cruel things for money or power. But that was the big city, not small-town Golden. She slowed down, anticipating the three twisting turns coming up. She remembered nearly losing it through this stretch when she was first learning to drive. Taking the twists on her bicycle had been a lot easier, she remembered with amusement. She dropped her speed a little more just to make sure, took the turns with caution and then entered the straightaway. This was always a pretty part of the drive. Large mature trees lined the two-lane road with a wall of lush green. She pressed down on the gas again.
A few minutes later Nora-Jane heard the mechanical growl behind her again. Only it sounded louder. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the vehicle coming around the last corner. The idiot behind her must have kept his speed up and had been lucky not to lose it around those sharp bends. Nora-Jane could now see it was a red, heavy-duty pickup truck with an extended cab and an extended rear cargo area. She learned those terms from her cousin Granville, who had a similar blue truck with four-wheel drive. And like him, this one had those big tires –
The red, heavy-duty pickup truck growled louder once it hit the straightaway.
Nora-Jane could see it was coming fast. Idiot!
The pickup closed the distance to Nora-Jane's Lincoln rapidly.
The newswoman felt herself tighten her butt cheeks as the pickup came up so fast she thought he was going to ram her.
The growl was loud as the pickup stayed mere inches away from the Lincoln's bumper.
Nora-Jane couldn't see the driver through the tinted windows. Who was this idiot? She contemplated slowing down and letting the driver pass. But he was so close! She wondered if he wouldn't react in time. She pressed down on the accelerator.
The big pickup began to fall back, the sound of the engine dropping away.
Nora-Jane felt some relief. She consciously tried to relax her body.
Suddenly, the 310 hp engine of the red pickup truck growled harshly again.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Nora-Jane's body tightened up as the heavy-duty pickup truck shot forward like a cannonball to within inches of her bumper again. She swore and yelled, "Why don't you just pass, you idiot!"
But the pickup truck just stayed glued to the Lincoln's bumper.
Nora-Jane squinted, trying to figure out who the driver was. And what his game was. She couldn't see anything through those stupid tinted windows. Nora-Jane pressed down more on the accelerator, opening a gap again.
The red pickup reacted by accelerating and closing the gap again.
Nora-Jane gave her car more gas.
The pickup accelerated just enough to stay on the Lincoln's tail.
"What are you doing, you idiot," she yelled again. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and gave it more gas.
The heavy-duty pickup upped its speed to close in again. Then it began to weave back and forth in the lane, mere inches from the Lincoln's bumper.
That angered Nora-Jane. Playing a stupid game like this at high speeds was reckless and dangerous. She didn't know what to do. She was afraid to slow down. If he wasn't expecting it...bang. If he accelerated while she slowed...bang. A collision at this speed wouldn't be pretty.
A moment later, the pursuing vehicle swung left into the opposite lane and the engine growled as it accelerated. The nose of the bonnet moved up to the back door of the Lincoln.
Nora-Jane shot a look down into the side mirror.
Was he finally passing?
She still couldn't see the driver through the tinted windshield. And the passenger side window was tinted as well. As the truck drew parallel, she couldn't tell if someone was sitting there looking across at her. Why was he...she...they...doing this?
The pickup stayed in the opposite lane, matching the big Lincoln's speed.
The scared woman glanced ahead, afraid even a glance might set off some burst of anger. Usually there weren't many vehicles on this road, but if one came along now–
Suddenly slowing, the pickup dropped back and then moved back in behind the Lincoln.
What in the world? What was he doing? Nora-Jane wondered.
The heavy-duty pickup began to weave back and forth again, inches from the Lincoln's bumper.
Nora-Jane Jackson pounded the steering wheel in frustration. "What are you doing!" she yelled. She wished she could just pull over and give the jackass a talking-to. This must be what road rage feels like, she thought.
The red pickup stopped weaving. It slowed and moved back from the Lincoln's bumper.
Nora-Jane felt relief.
But she also felt sick at her stomach.
Stupid games!
The truck's engine growled and the vehicle accelerated again, coming back hard at the Lincoln's bumper.
Nora-Jane gripped the steering wheel in anticipation of getting rammed!
The huge pickup loomed large in her rearview mirror
Nora-Jane screamed. He was going to hit her this time, she was sure of it.
The pickup slowed down and backed away.
Nora-Jane Jackson almost threw up.
Vomit burned her throat.
The pickup accelerated again.
Nora-Jane tensed, anticipating the collision again, but it never came.
The pickup slowed down again and backed away. He did it several more times, coming up close at high speed and then backing away quickly.
Nora-Jane yelled as she hammered at the steering wheel again, "Son of a bitch. Why are you doing this?" She floored the gas. The big Lincoln accelerated away from the heavy-duty pickup. She glanced in the rearview mirror. She was getting away. Nora-Jane kept the gas pedal to the floor. She tried to remember how far to the next curve. She heard a roar and glanced into the rearview mirror.
The huge pickup accelerated and chased the Lincoln.
Nora-Jane pushed her foot down on the gas pedal, trying to get more speed. She felt like the gazelle trying to escape the lion in those nature shows her mother used to watch.
The red pickup roared, coming closer...closer....
Nora-Jane glanced back and forth from the road ahead to the rearview mirror.
The pickup closed the distance and hung on to the Lincoln's bumper again.
Nora-Jane willed her car to go faster, bile rising in her throat.
The pickup swung left into the opposite lane again, the engine growling as it continued accelerating.
Looking across, Nora-Jane could see the pickup truck was right there now, right beside her. It was taller than the Lincoln, she could only see the lower half of the passenger side window. But she still couldn't see anything through the tinted glass.
The pickup truck moved a foot away and she could see more of the passenger side window. It was like a big black evil eye staring at her. Then it suddenly swung sharply left, away from the Lincoln and almost off the road.
Nora-Jane looked ahead quickly, thinking a vehicle was approaching ahead of them. But the road ahead was empty. She looked back at the pickup truck, wondering....
The big red pickup growled and swung back towards her.
Nora-Jane Jackson let out a surprised scream as her Lincoln was bashed from the side. Her right wheel hit the gravel shoulder on the right and she nearly lost control. Holding the steering wheel tight with a death-grip, she fought to get the big luxury car back onto the pavement.
The pickup truck swung to the left in its lane again, then aggressively moved back to pound the side of the big Lincoln again.
Nora-Jane felt the jolt and the big Lincoln luxury sedan swayed and she fought to maintain control as her right wheels fought with the gravel shoulder.
The pickup truck moved left again.
Nora-Jane got the wheels back on the pavement.
The pickup truck came back at the Lincoln even harder this time.
Nora-Jane actually felt her driver-side door buckle inward from the blow.
The red pickup move left and came back again, crunching in the Lincoln's left front fender.
The 4,200 lbs of the Lincoln was a poor match for the 6,000 lbs of the heavy-duty pickup truck. Nora-Jane's right wheels left the pavement again, hitting the gravel. She fought to maintain control as the Lincoln shuddered half on the pavement and half on the shoulder. The trees on the right were just a blur.
The pickup moved to the right, not hitting her again but keeping pace.
"You're not running me off the road," she yelled.
The trees were right there, certain death at this speed.
The red, heavy-duty pickup truck stayed put, never wavering in its path.
Nora-Jane struggled to maintain control as the right wheels continued to fight with the soft gravel of the shoulder.
The pickup truck kept pace, a huge menacing hunk of red metal.
Nora-Jane Jackson felt hot tears stream down her cheeks as she realized what was about to happen. He wasn't trying to run her off the road. Her brain sent the signal but her foot only made it halfway from the gas to the brake. The Lincoln MKS stopped dead as it hit the steel framework of the Knox River bridge.