One For the Road Ch. 05

Something thumped against the back of my Charger, short and hollow. And then again. My car didn't jerk so nothing hit it, but I heard the impact. What the fuck was it? Looking around, the other prick in the Nissan was SHOOTING at me, FUCKING SHOOTING!, out his passenger window! This wasn't the movies so he was shooting at a 103 mph driving vehicle out of his own vehicle traveling at similar speeds. And cars don't explode when you hit them. But the fucker COULD get lucky and hit a tire, or my leg, or anything else.

Ok, Les wasn't going anywhere. This fucker had a gun and was shooting at me. Let's take his ass out.

I cut the wheel to the left and tapped the break, slowing my vehicle down enough to suddenly roll to his back quarter panel. My front bumper hit it and the two times weight difference between my V-8 Charger and his crappy Nissan 240SX shoved his rear off alignment. His car slewed sideway and I slammed on my breaks as he spun around, tires sending up a cloud of white smoke. I saw he had a tight grip on his steering wheel, trying to correct his spin as he was now travelling the Expressway in the wrong direction and drifting into the center median. My last view of the douchebag was his car in my driver's side mirror spinning merrily across the LIE as I downshifted to 4^th and hit the accelerator once again to catch up to Les.

Exit 59, Ocean Ave. 62 mph.

One down. One to go.

There was a knot of vehicles ahead of us, and I could see Les was slaloming between the cars, jockeying from the center to the left lane and leaning on his horn when he needed to make a space. The green glow from his undercarriage was like a beacon to me, ever calling me to come and get him.

Get me, Jimmy. Get me.

I'm coming, you scumbag.

I tried to follow the path that the Civic was making in the cars around us and gave it up quickly when I was stuck boxed in between an Impala and a Ford 150. I slowed down, cut right, and accelerated up the painted shoulder; tires rumbling along the wake up treading cut into the asphalt. At 71 mph I merged left again, this time in front of an Audi; Les five cars away from me and one lane over. I wove back and forth in my lane, honking my horn, yelling at the drivers around me to move. "Get out of my way!"

A break. Nissan Sentra on my left slowed down, giving me an opening. Pedal down, speedometer crept to 75, 79, 82. Inching left. Fuck! How the fuck didn't I hit that other guy's bumper?! Civic, 3 cars ahead.

Exit 58, Old Nichols Road, half a mile.

I leaned on my horn and scared the hell out of the guy ahead of me. He tapped his breaks and moved to the right, my brights flashing as I twigged my high beams on and off. Les cut to the right, coming around the slower brown shit-box car in front of him and he was free of the crowd, already starting to pull ahead.

Fuck that.

Look over my left shoulder, no one there. Stomp that pedal, pull into the HOV lane. Ignore that guy doing 67 ahead of you, Jimmy. Pull MORE to the left, my wheels getting dangerously close to the dirt and grass median. Closer. Closer. Passing the guy. Fuck fuck fuck, Charger roars in agony as I slip over the slope of the concrete curb and my left tires are kicking up horrible clouds of dirt and grit, my suspension screaming at me as I pinged and dinged and crumped and careened over the mess I was driving on until FINALLY! I'm past the HOV guy and I swerve right, back on the LIE proper and ahead of the pack.

Coming for you Les.

As fast as his Civic was and whatever he had done to it, it was mostly cosmetic. The gap he had widened between us shrunk quickly as I roared past 110 mph and caught up to him. Alright Jimmy, now that you're here? What are you going to do? Exit 57.

I figured I'd run him off the road like I did his buddy. And then I'd beat the shit out of him. But first, I was going to have to get him off the road. I snuck up on his left, trying to get to his quarter panel and he burst ahead and moved right, then cutting ahead of me. So I tried the other side, and again, he swerved away. Fucking happy horseshit. This crap ain't easy. Stand still, fucker.

I caught flashing lights in my rear view mirror and noticed that the cops had finally joined the chase. No telling how far back they were, but they were too far away to help me now. Plus, if Les gets scared because of the cops and leaves the LIE, I'll have a harder time stopping him on the residential roads. I needed to end this now.

Exit 56, Route 111.

Feathering the gas I was coming up on his right side this time, doing just about 80, and feeling like I had his ass finally when something caught my attention in my rear view mirror. I looked up just in time to see the fuck face in the Nissan 240SX wasn't out of the chase as I expected. In fact he was coming up real fast, really fast. FUCK!

The Nissan 240 hit my back bumper hard, causing me to whiplash forward, tapping Les's Civic and then finding myself sliding off my heading as my Charger roared in complaint. My head rang off the steering wheel and I was in pain and suddenly dizzy, the space behind my eyes flashing in spastic agony. The impact reminded me I didn't have my seatbelt on (so sue me and give me a fucking ticket) as well as dislodged my phone from its cradle. My radio suddenly turned on and I could hear Father Mike's voice coming from the speaker as the CD I had in the player activated. My rear was kicking out to the right, and I could see that my heading was still down the LIE, but my view was drifting left. I was fucking boned.

I cut the wheel to the right and shoved the accelerator down, shredding my tires as I tried to gain traction again. My tachometer was red-lining past 8,000 and I could feel my Charger straining to get a grip. The median was coming up and I was still in a partial slide and spin. I needed the tires to grab and grab now. The wheel was pinned, I could feel it shaking under my grasp. Grip you mother fucker. Grip!

"GRIP!!"

With a wrenching crunch my Bridgestone Potenzas gained traction and the back of my Charger swung wildly to the left, fishtailing my car as I struggled to keep her heading the right direction down the Expressway. I released the wheel and let it run through my fingers, the heavy duty suspension keeping the ass of my baby firmly in place and my Charger on the road.

"FUCK YEAH!" I howled, looking around at my situation. Les, 400 feet ahead. Exit 55, coming up quick. Cops, still too far back. Fucker in the Nissan? Out my left window. My neck was crackling as I looked around and from the blood dripping down my chin it was obvious I was hurting. Thank god Father Mike was here with me, talking to me about the 12^th step and why it's a good idea not to drink. I totally agree with you, Father, but right now I have to stop that white and black car from crashing into me again.

I pulled ahead, feeling a bit shaky as I accelerated, the blurring of my vision letting me know I was between 80 and 90. The Nissan was behind me and getting closer again. I know he wanted to ram into me a second time and given the way I was feeling and my baby was shimmying, I don't think we were going to be able to handle a second hit. Had to stop him.

I wiped my eyes clear with my left hand and reached around my back seat with my right. Trying to grab anything I could use to stop that son of a bitch. Rebar? Nope, good in a fight, bad on the road? Tape measure? Toolbelt? Hammer? Nope, not heavy enough. Shin guards? Box of roofing nails?

Nails. Five pound box of one-and-a-quarter inch roofing nails.

I grabbed it, pulled it into my lap, and shifted it to my left hand. Glancing in the rear view mirror he was getting closer. But not close enough. I stomped the gas, giving us a widening gap and then cut to the right half a lane and let the nails tinkle out the window behind me. They fell like raining metal spears bouncing and scattering across the road in my Charger's wake and across the Nissan's path.

There was no way for me to hear the sound of his tires puncturing, and at 80 plus mph I'm sure it didn't do him any favors either, but I did notice him slowing down and sliding to the left finally off my back for good and hopefully at the mercy of the police to take away.

I had one more quarry to tackle.

I blinked my eyes clear and raced after Les' green glowing car, my Charger and I were battered and dented. We were both beaten and bleeding in our own way, but like a vengeful spirit from the depths of hell, we were not going to let this scumbag escape.

My Charger struggled to resume the chase, the vehicle shaking and groaning as I pushed her past 90. It took all my strength to keep my hands on the wheel and her nose pointed straight at the slowly closing Civic. The speedometer inched ever higher. 93. 95. My baby was moaning in agony as we closed in.

Then Les moved to the right, taking exit 53 for the Sagtikos Parkway. Fucker's getting off the LIE early. Where are you going you scared piece of shit? Running from me? You started this, fucker. I'm going to finish it! I followed the Civic off the highway, running alongside of him, grinning like a fiend. He kept looking at me in terror out his window; his eyes bloodshot and peeled back white. I know he was trying to get ahead of me, but he couldn't push his Civic hard enough and was forced to see me coming closer and closer.

We rocketed down the service road towards the Sagtikos entrance. It was an exit on the right that curved left and over the LIE; the yellow warning sign advising us of the incline ahead and the need to reduce the speed to 45 mph. I chose to ignore it.

"Fuck you, Maricon!" I could hear him scream at me in the night air, yelling at me through our open windows. He jerked the wheel to the left and hit my Charger, trying to force me away from him. The steel of our two cars crumpled against one another, the cries of our vehicles sounding together. My baby jarred to the left and then righted herself.

Father Mike's voice continued to drone out of the speakers as a new track in the CD began to play. "This is one of my favorite Psalms, Jimmy. I hope you like it too. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

I pulled the wheel to the right, returning the favor and crashing my Charger into the driver's side of his Civic. I could see Les struggling to maintain control as my heavier car bounced off his own.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:"

Something pinged hard under my baby and she became a little bit harder to control. But her engine was still mine to command and I kept the pedal down as I smashed Les' car again.

"He leadeth me beside the still waters."

The sign for the highway entrance was upon us and we found ourselves off the service road of the Long Island Expressway, the entrance ramp ¼ mile ahead.

"He restoreth my soul:"

Les pulled to the left, my Charger taking the blow like a champion. My wheel cut left and then right as I forced her back on the roadway.

"He leadeth me in straight paths for his name's sake."

It was odd, but at that moment, I thought about Myra and how happy I was when she accepted my invite to the movies for our first date so long ago.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,"

She wore a green blouse that day. And black pants. I had never been with a girl as beautiful as her and I knew at the end of the date, that this was someone I didn't want to fuck up with. She was going to be the better part of me.

"I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;"

Les was screaming something at me but I didn't care. Nothing he said mattered. I was vengeance. I was wrath. My Charger was my sword and he was the vanquished.

"Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

I slammed my car to the right and he turned wildly to the left, trying to force himself back to the middle of the roadway. Trying, but slowly and perceptually failing.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:"

Myra was the most beautiful bride. When she said 'I do' it was like angels were singing it to me. My heart could not have been happier. We hit the incline and the ramp turned left.

"Thou anointest my head with oil;"

John's birth was so crazy. I can't believe that my wife actually let me hold him. He was so fucking tiny! Look at this tiny guy! Hello Johnny, I'm your Daddy! There was a spray of sparks as my Charger forced the Civic to run against the concrete barrier at over 70 mph. The scream of tortured metal filled the air.

"My cup runneth over."

I held the accelerator down, punishing Les with my right foot and 5,300 lbs of metal and steel. The green glow was gone, replaced by white hot yellow sparks. Sparks like the lights on Joel's first birthday cake. My second son was fascinated by the candles, cooing with unashamed glee at the dancing lights.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me"

This house, Myra? This is our house, babes. We'll live here and raise our family and damn it, we'll be happy because we're in it together. I love you so much. The highway continued to curve left and I was now pushing the Civic up and to the side, her passenger wheels riding up the concrete berm.

"All the days of my life:"

I heard Les scream frantically as the berms ended and the thick double row metal guard rail tore out the underside of his car. I watched as the scumbag's car raced over the side and started to fall the 50 feet to the LIE below. My Charger rode up and over, the demon cry of my motor roaring to the heavens. If you run to me boys, no matter what, I'll always catch you. Always. I'm your Dad, and I have no job that is more important to me.

"And I will dwell in the house of the Lord"

I saw the darkness of the night sky through the windshield of my baby, her voice broken and her body battered. But we were in it together. And as the view shifted and I angled down and I saw the shattered and burning remains of Les' Civic below I knew that I had done what I needed to do. I saved my family. Catch me Daddy. Catch me.

"For ever."

I'm Jimmy Skelly. I'm good. I've got this.

"Amen."