“Switch places with me,” Decker told him.

Jonathan started for the door, then stopped himself. “You mean I should crawl over you.”

“Yes, of course. Stay down.”

Falling over one another, they switched places. Decker was on the floor of the driver’s seat; Jonathan had hunkered down on the passenger’s side. Decker could hear his brother breathing hard…or maybe he was hearing his own exhalations. A moment ago, he had been exhausted, completely spent. In a few seconds’ time, adrenaline had put speed and force into his heartbeat.

“What—”

“Shhh…”A pause. “Hear that?”

“What?”

“Listen!”

Finally, Jonathan heard it, the low growl of an engine grumbling through the rain. Decker peered over the dashboard, but nothing came into his field of vision. He lowered the driver’s window halfway down, more than enough to liberate the barrel of the snub-nose. Then he looked over the dashboard again.

The motorized whir grew a bit louder, then abruptly all was silent except for the rain.

“Uh-oh… this doesn’t look good.…”

“Wha—!”

“Shhh…”

Jonathan would have thrown up his hands had there been room. His armpits were soaked through.

“Okay, okay… Where’s the flashlight?”

Jonathan gave it to him. “What are you going to do?”

“I gotta see him first.” Decker was talking to himself. He patted the battery pack. “Let’s hope this motherfucker’s strong.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Don’t know.” He put the driver’s window all the way up, then unlocked the doors. Again he peeked over the dash. He couldn’t really see anything, but the darkness in front of him seemed to shift, as if the air molecules were rearranging themselves. Could be his imagination playing games. But then something shifted again. “Get way down, Jonathan. Tuck your head between your legs and your hands over your neck.”

The rabbi did as told. Decker noticed that his brother was moving his lips, but no sounds were coming out—silent prayer. He hoped Jon was saying one for him, too. “I see something. Hold on, baby… C’mon, you mother…”

The shape—presumably a human and most probably a male— was nearing the van, walking with a bowlegged gait as if he were about to draw a gun in an old-fashioned Western. Then Decker realized that the legs were straddling a seat. The motorcycle was a small one. Looked to be a Honda… something nimble. He was approaching them from the driver’s side, most likely because the van’s passenger wheels were stuck in a rut of mud right next to the woods.

“C’mon, c’mon… ,” Decker urged.

Inching closer.

“Just a little more, baby….”

“Oh God!” Jonathan moaned.

“Hold on.” Decker swallowed hard. “He’s almost here.”

The seconds ticked by.

One… two… three.

He peeked out again. “C’mon, motherfucker. Move a little closer to the door.…”

Four… five… six.

The Honda was at the front bumper on the driver’s side. A figure looking through the window… to the dash. Even though Decker couldn’t see out that well, he knew there was no way that the biker could see in.