But Lane didn’t answer. Her eyes were glued to the white and blue cars approaching her head-on. The dark blue car was in her lane, its lights flashing a morbid rhythm while the white car sped next to it.

“Lane?”

“They’re coming. Two cars. White. Dark blue. They’re headed straight for me.” Lane’s voice cracked. “They’re going to run into me.”

“Lane, I’m sending patrol cars out to you right now. Can you safely pull off the road?”

Lane looked to both sides of the road. The shoulder was only a foot or two wide. Not big enough for three cars.

“Please”—the shrill in Lane’s voice was enough to draw a whimper from Noah—“they’re going to hit us.” The memory of Mathias’s death, the state troopers on her porch, filled her mind and tears began to cloud her vision.

“Momma?” Noah’s voice trembled as though he could sense something wasn’t right.

Lane blinked the tears away. “It’s okay, baby.” She kept her focus on the cars charging forward. She slowed down and moved as much as she could to the right side of the road, but rather than change lanes the cars kept coming at her. They were too close. Too close.

The sound of screeching tires forced Lane’s eyes closed as she prepared for impact, but none came. She opened her eyes only to see a cloud of white smoke and both cars stopped inches from her truck’s front bumper. Lane tried to see the faces of the drivers terrorizing her, but the windshields reflected black holes.

“Lane, are you alright?” Deputy Benningfield’s voice interrupted the silence. “Lane?”

“Um, they’re stopped in front of me.” Lane tried to catch her breath. “What should I do?”

“Do not get out of your car—”

“I’m not.” The smell of burned rubber filled her car as she watched both cars reverse, their tires filling the air with smoke. A second later they stopped. “I-I think they’re leaving.”

“Okay, honey. Wait for them to leave, and then I want you to drive away as quickly and safely as possible.”

License plate. Lane squinted through the haze, but the cars moved so quickly she was only able to read the last three numbers on the license plate of the dark blue car as it weaved in and out of the lane. 674.

“Are they gone?”

“They’re driving away. North.” Lane looked over her shoulder and tried to give Noah a reassuring smile. “You alright, buddy?”

“I want to go home, Momma.”

“Me too, bud.”

“Lane, can you give me a description?”

“I was only able to get the last three numbers on the dark blue vehicle. 674.”

“That’s good, honey. We’ve got a patrol car en route. Do you think you can continue on your way safely?”