“Hold on!” Curt yelled when he decided he had the opportunity. He cut the wheel sharply to the right. The van skidded slightly before rocketing ahead of the truck and then swerving in the opposite direction. The driver of the truck slammed on his brakes, causing his tires to screech in protest. Curt fought to keep the van from fishtailing as Steve leaned the gun out the window. They’d come directly alongside of Jack.

Before Steve could draw a bead, Jack surprised them by braking suddenly himself and disappearing from view.

“What the hell?” Curt questioned. He eased up on the accelerator. The van slowed. “Where the hell did he go?”

“Behind us, I think,” Steve said. He stuck his head out the window and looked back.

Seconds later Jack appeared right next to Curt’s driver’s side window. To Curt’s astonishment the doctor flipped him the finger. Curt swore and struggled to get his window down while yelling for Steve to shoot the bastard.

Steve leaned across Curt’s lap, but Jack had moved forward.

“Hold on,” Curt yelled. He pressed on the accelerator and the van leaped ahead. But just as they were coming abreast of Jack for the second time, Jack swung left into a clearer lane. Curt swore and moved left himself, but the lane was occupied. There was another thump as a taxi hit the side of the van. In the mirror Curt saw the taxi skid sideways to end up perpendicular to the oncoming traffic. Instantly there was a tremendous collision and a multi-vehicle pileup.

“Christ!” Steve exclaimed. He could see what had happened through the rear window of the van.

“Hold on, everybody, he’s going left again,” Curt yelled. No sooner had Curt changed lanes himself than Jack made a wide, arcing turn into Fifty-first Street heading west.

“God damn it!” Curt cried as he jammed on the brakes and threw the steering wheel to the left to try to follow. The van shuddered as it skidded sideways before the tires caught. Even so, it grazed a parked car on the right followed by one on the left before Curt regained complete control. In the distance they could see Jack methodically pumping.

“Doesn’t he get tired?” Curt questioned. He pressed down on the gas and the van shot forward.

At Second Avenue they missed the traffic light. Undeterred, Curt inched out into the moving traffic amid horn honking and swearing. Steve hunkered down in his seat, since he was the one exposed to the oncoming vehicles.

“Up yours!” Curt yelled to a particularly irate driver. Despite moving against the light, Curt succeeded in making it across Second Avenue, and he accelerated again. Jack was already at Third Avenue waiting for the traffic signal there to change.

“We got him now,” Curt snarled.