“Keep this steady,” I said to Angie and rolled down my window. I leaned my upper body out into the pelting rain and screaming wind and pointed my gun at the rear windshield of the Lexus. As the rain bit into my eyes, I fired three quick shots. The muzzle flashes exploded into the air like heat lightning, and the rear windshield of the Lexus collapsed all over the trunk. Mr. Cushing tapped his brakes and I jerked myself back inside as Angie rammed the Lexus and Jay’s car shot out ahead of it.

Jay came off the curb too fast, though, and the right wheels of the 3000 GT bounced off the ground and then rose into the air. Angie screamed, and muzzle flashes erupted from inside the Lexus.

The Celica’s windshield imploded.

The rain and wind launched a storm of glass through our hair and off our cheeks and necks. Angie swerved to the right and our tires ate curb again, the hubcaps crunching against the cement. The Toyota seemed to buckle into itself for a moment, then swerved back into the lane.

Ahead of us, Jay’s car flipped.

It bounced on the driver’s side, then rolled over onto its roof and the Lexus accelerated and hit it hard enough to send it spinning through the rain toward the bridge barrier.

“Screw these guys,” I said and rose off my seat and extended my body over the dashboard.

I leaned so far forward my wrists passed through the shattered windshield and rested on the car hood. I steadied my hand as tiny specks of glass bit into my wrists and face and fired another three shots into the interior of the Lexus.

I must have hit someone, because the Lexus jerked away from Jay’s car and swung back across the left lane. It hit the barrier under the last of the yellow fins so hard it bounced sideways and then backward, its heavy gold body jumping trunk first into both lanes ahead of us.

“Get back in,” Angie yelled at me as she swung the Celica to the right, trying to clear the trunk of the Lexus as it jumped across our path.

The gold machine floated through the night toward us. Angie turned the wheel with both hands, and I tried to get back into my seat.

I didn’t make it, and neither did Angie.

When we smashed into the Lexus, my body shot airborne. I cleared the hood of the Celica and landed on the trunk of the Lexus like a porpoise, my chest slashing through the beads of water and pebbled glass without slowing down much. I heard something crash on my right, a cement crashing that was so loud it sounded as if the night sky had been torn in half.