A wink of starlight from the Chrysler. Another wink and the windshield of a Jeep to my right spiderwebs. The Jeep runs off the road, hitting the grassy divider between the highway and the access road. I lower my head further and lean right, veering away. I look back and see the Chrysler’s passenger side window lower, revealing the driver. He raises a pistol. I lean even harder to the right, lurching into the breakdown lane, putting a tractor-trailer between us. I speed up and reach for my CZ. When I pass the truck and veer back onto the highway, the Chrysler is in the far-left lane, and the driver notices me just as I raise my CZ. He crosses the empty lane between us, the car aimed directly at me. I get one shot off before I have to swerve back into the breakdown lane to avoid being run over.

The Chrysler tries to follow but a horn blasts and the tractor-trailer roars up behind us, forcing the car to swerve left. I brake and let the tractor-trailer pass, then slip into its wake, the bike wobbling in the slipstream. I shove the CZ into its holster so I can use my right hand to roll the throttle and accelerate. In the few seconds it takes me to do that, the Chrysler drops behind me and cuts across all three lanes of traffic to exit back onto the access road, an exit I have just passed.

I turn off the bike’s headlight and turn hard right, nearly fishtailing as I cut back into the breakdown lane and then onto the grassy divider. I drive down the grassy incline toward the access road. Up ahead, the Chrysler pulls off the access road onto a two-lane road that loops to the right around a copse of oaks, past a granite sign that says Millennial Park. A fancy corporate park. Perfect.