“Mama.”
“I know, honey, I know.” Molly’s eyes shot from the left to the right in search of an exit from the small highway. There were many dirt roads that led from the main thoroughfare, crisscrossing the local farmland. But as they neared each one, she dismissed it as an escape since there was really nowhere to hide in the open country that surrounded them. For a moment she considered turning down one of the dirt roads and simply dousing their lights, in the hope that Anthony would not look too closely as he shot by, but the thought was banished as the single sphere of light appeared once again, this time much closer.
“We’re gonna have to outrun him,” she said hollowly. She saw Lance’s small head turn to look at her, but she had no time now to offer an encouraging smile or even eye contact. Her eyes were glued to the road in front of them as it stretched away into an ocean of darkness. How many miles until town? she thought as the glow behind them began to grow. Could they make it there before he caught them and ran them off the road?
The yellow dividing lines passed by with increasing speed, there and gone in the night, counting off the seconds of their short-lived flight. Lance imagined what death would be like, not for the first time. Would Jesus be waiting there for him in the dark with his arm outstretched like at church? Would it hurt to pass from this life to whatever lay beyond here? He knew it would hurt to die, his father would make sure of that, but what would become of him? Would he float up, weightless, into the night air? Would there be gates made of gold like the priest sometimes spoke about? Would his mother be there? Would God let her in after all of her waiting?
His thoughts were cut short as a sound began to invade his eardrums. It pushed itself closer and closer as it throbbed inside the car. Lance wondered crazily if it was a helicopter circling close overhead, like the ones he sometimes saw on COPS. The headlight behind them grew until it lit the back of his mother’s hair like a halo.
As the headlight approached steadily from behind, Molly’s hands shook on the steering wheel, and she thought for a moment that she might lose control and careen off the narrow highway and into one of the nearby power poles. Maybe that would be better, she thought. It would be easy to glide over to the right and strike one of the solid poles. She glanced down and saw the needle prodding eighty miles per hour. That would be fast enough.
Molly shook her head. She couldn’t do it. She may have hurt Lance in her own way by not doing something earlier, but she wouldn’t be the one responsible for robbing him of every possible experience he would have if they made it past this night. She wouldn’t take away getting his driver’s license, going to the prom, marrying a beautiful girl, having children of his own.
A rough thudding filled her ears and vibrated her hands. She glanced into the rearview mirror and saw that the headlight was only a few car lengths behind them. Any moment the old Chevy would pull even with them and her husband’s narrow face would glare at them from the driver’s seat, promising pain and much more.
The sound increased and the headlight swung out wide behind them, into the left lane. Lance leaned forward to look across his mother, terrified of what he was about to see, but helpless to resist.
A long-haired man on a huge motorcycle drew even with them, and for a moment Lance could see every detail of the bike and rider. The man wore full leather chaps and a matching jacket. His eyes were trained forward, and dark locks that must have been a full two feet long trailed gracefully behind him like a black comet’s tail.