The Final Hour

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was a massive Jeep, jumping the ridge. The sight of it froze me in my tracks. Where had it come from? We were far from any road, far from anything. There was nothing out here but me and the mud-and those glaring headlights and those monster tires and that grinning grille.

The next instant, the Jeep smacked down, throwing up sheets of dirt and water. At the same time, I started running again, my feet nearly skidding out from under me as I changed direction and tried to get out of the Jeep’s way.

The headlights bore down on me as I cut straight across them. The Jeep passed behind me so close, I felt the mud spatter over my back as I ran. I climbed desperately up the slope ahead of me as the Jeep, unable to stop, splashed up the slope to my left.

I heard its tires whining as they spun in the mud. I heard a voice begin to shout-or thought I did. But the next moment I could hear nothing but thunder.

As I reached the top of the ridge, I could feel the earth, turned to gushing mud, sliding away under my feet. I threw myself forward and rolled. Gasping for breath, covered head to foot in filth, I climbed to my knees, peering around through the blinding rain.

There was nothing to see-nothing in any direction but empty territory and boiling black clouds and the streaking downpour.

As the thunder died, I heard the Jeep’s tires spinning again. Then I heard them catch traction. I heard the engine’s roar grow throaty and deep. A moment later, I heard that roar getting louder and louder. The Jeep had finally turned around and was heading back toward me again.

I ran. My speed was gone now. My energy had at last given out. My legs were weak and wobbly beneath me. My lungs were burning. My wet, muddy clothes were so heavy I felt like I was wearing a suit of lead, dragging it through the storm. Only my will was still strong. I was determined not to surrender, determined to make them run me down, make them overtake me. The idea of being taken back to that prison was a living nightmare.

I stumbled on, my arms wheeling, my hands grasping as if to find purchase in the driving rain. The lightning snapped and flashed across the black sky. The Jeep’s engine strained as the car tried to make its way up the slope behind me.

I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see the dark rain go bright as those huge headlights crested the ridge. In the next second, the Jeep leapt into sight and plunged down into the mud, splattering dirt everywhere as it charged relentlessly after me.

I poured everything I had left into the next few seconds. But it was no good, no use. I was exhausted. I was done. The Jeep’s horn screamed at my back like the cry of a hungry animal. The engine roared louder as the big machine overtook my failing footsteps.

The next time I looked, the headlights were enormous, filling my vision. The Jeep was right on top of me, seconds from plowing over me.

I leapt to the side and, as I did, I lost my footing and fell. I went down into the mud, clawing at it, rolling, trying to stand. I heard the Jeep’s brakes shriek as its wheels locked. Scrabbling over the shifting, muddy ground, I saw the big vehicle go skidding past me through the mud, turning so that its headlights seemed to search for me in the night. The rain was so heavy the headlights blurred. The Jeep was almost invisible though it was only a few yards away from me.

Now, unable to stand, I started crawling. It was the best I could do. I clawed my way across the earth, my face inches from the mud, my hands and knees and feet sinking deep into the mess of it.

The Jeep had stopped moving. Behind me, I heard its door open and shut. The thunder rolled and the lightning flashed. When the noise subsided, I heard the wet footsteps of my pursuer. I saw his tall figure moving toward me in the glow of the headlights. I didn’t know whether he was coming to arrest or to kill me dead.

Finally, out of breath, out of strength, I collapsed into the mud. The footsteps came nearer and stopped. The Jeep’s driver was standing over me.

I lay where I was, panting into the earth. I couldn’t go any farther. I just managed to roll onto my back and peer up through the rain at the figure above me.

“Come on, chucklehead, get in the stupid car,” he said.

It was Mike.