I held speed as before and within seconds the truck was on my bumper. I glanced in my side mirror and caught the faintest glimpse of something as it came out of the passenger window.

At the sight of the movement, I immediately dropped low in my seat. Just as I did, bloooom, the back window of the Chevy exploded inward from the blast of a shotgun.

I tromped down on the accelerator, simultaneously pointed the pistol up over my left shoulder, over the top of the seat, and slapped the trigger—pop-pop—pop-pop—pop-pop.

The old Chevy was fast, but the truck on my ass was even faster. Instantly, and with a tremendous burst of speed, he swung up alongside. I saw the shotgun barrel sticking out of the window, swinging down on me for the kill. I swung the pistol and fired two more rounds into the door of the truck, while at the same time, I tapped the brakes of the Chevy.

The truck leaped forward in a surge of power. The shooter fired. The red tongue of the muzzle blast slashed the night just in front of my windshield. Then, as the rear wheel of the truck came in line with my front bumper, I nudged the Chevy over and gave the truck a tap in the wheel well. The effect was instantaneous and dramatic.

The rear wheels of the truck lost their grip on the road and began to swerve away, trying to overtake the front wheels. The truck, its wheels skidding like he’d hit a patch of ice, slid broadside across the front of my car. I hit the accelerator to give an additional shove, and the truck went completely out of control.

The shooter fired again, wildly, the shot going straight up in the air. Then the truck slammed into the low abutment of a bridge. I saw his undercarriage as the truck lifted up on its side, and going airborne, disappeared from my view. As I powered past, I heard a mangle of crunching metal and breaking glass, and then a huge splash. I hit the brakes hard, making the tires squall, then let off just enough to stop the skid. The big Chevy slowed as though we’d hit a pond of molasses.