IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT to describe just how close they’d come to killing us all—how little time I’d had to yank the wheel and hit the brakes in those first awful seconds after they’d shot from the sideroad. All I know for certain is that I ended up facing in the opposite direction—even while they careened into the trees on the other side of the road ... where they quickly reversed, massive tires spinning, and narrowly missed me yet again—for I’d stepped on the gas and chirped out of their way.
And then we were right back where we’d started (only traveling in the opposite direction), piling down Old State Route 51 with our vehicles side by side and the truck’s chrome stacks belching black smoke into the night. And I saw in the vespertine darkness what I couldn’t have seen before—which was t
