Warhol's Prophecy

73

THE IMPACT JOLTED him forward in his seat.

For long seconds Rob thought that the other car had skidded on the wet surface. Maybe the driver had panicked, hit the brakes hard and been unable to stop.

Perhaps that would teach the silly bastard not to get so close in future.

Rob accelerated away.

The other car followed.

Seconds later, Rob felt another shuddering impact. Even more powerful than the first.

‘Fucking idiot,’ roared Rob, looking again at the rear-view mirror, but still seeing only glaring headlights.

The rain continued to pelt down. Above him the heavens were illuminated by another searing white flash, and soon thunder rumbled loudly.

The car behind rammed him again.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Rob shouted angrily.

He stepped on the accelerator, sending a curtain of spray up behind him.

The other car followed, swung out into the road and kept pace about three yards behind, but slightly to his right.

Rob looked in the wing mirror, and saw that the vehicle was now driving down the centre of the road.

It suddenly swerved across and slammed again into the Audi, the clash so great it was all Rob could do to keep his own car under control.

There was another impact almost immediately and, this time, he felt the Audi skidding. He was careering towards the sodden grass and mud that flanked the road.

For terrifying seconds he thought he was going to lose control – hit the small ramp of earth and crash into the trees beyond. But he guided the car back onto the road, great geysers of mud spewing up from under churning tyres.

The darkness was lit momentarily by the cold white glow of lightning, and in that instant Rob saw the other car drawing up alongside him.

He glanced to his right, trying to see the driver, gesticulating madly at this fucking moron who seemed so intent on running him off the road.

But the rain and darkness hid the occupant and, despite its proximity, still also masked the make of vehicle.

They were coming to a corner.

The pursuing car veered sharply to the left, and caught the Audi broadside.

Both cars swerved on the waterlogged surface. Rob gripped the steering wheel furiously and twisted it.

‘Come on then, you prick,’ he bellowed, sending the Audi back across the road towards the other vehicle.

As they collided, the other car swung away slightly but, before Rob could enjoy his victory, it had crashed back into him so hard he felt something prod against his leg.

Looking down, he realized that his door had been dented so badly that part of the interior frame had come loose.

What the fuck was this bastard playing at?

Rob accelerated again, the needle on his speedometer touching sixty.

He knew this was too fast for safety in such treacherous conditions, but his only thought now was to escape this madman – whoever the fuck he was.

Another jarring collision.

The other car was level with him again, bumping into him almost continuously, nudging him towards the muddy verge.

Rob’s anger was mixed with fear now.

He had no idea what this bastard was doing, why he was doing it – and, more worryingly, how far he would persist in taking this dangerous game.

The Audi was battered yet again, and Rob could see now that the other car was moving ahead of him.

Trying to cut him off?

Rob hit his brakes, allowing the other driver to get in front of him. Then he accelerated. Out, and across into the other lane, so that Rob was on the outside now.

He was driving on the wrong side of a darkened road.

Perhaps if he could push the offending vehicle off the tarmac . . .

Just nudge it onto the verge.

Disable it long enough to escape from it . . . then he would phone the police and . . .

The entire car interior was filled with such blinding light that Rob actually raised a hand to shield his eyes.

The lightning now lit up the heavens with a savage explosion of whiteness.

But it was not lightning, Rob realized.

It was the headlights of a lorry.

And it was heading straight for him.