The story: 2
“We have company,” Senka said and nodded to the dust plume trailing a truck on a parallel road to ours. It looked like an old pick up, but it was moving fast. We came to a crossroad and I turned away from the truck. It turned too and could see a lone Asian driver was heading right for us. I was hoping my own dust cloud would keep him at a distance. The ruts in the road worried me about breaking an axle or blowing out a tire, I couldn’t give it all the speed I wanted to. We bounced hard over the road. I pulled the steering wheel to the right and road the edge of the trench. I’d give anything for a nice paved four lane highway.
The first blast from the shotgun mostly missed. A few pellets slammed into the roof breaking the glass in my taxi light. I gave it more gas. I could see a highway up ahead. I would have to slow down to make the turn; I wanted to go left, but needed to make the shot as hard for him as possible so I made a right. He’d have to shoot through his own windshield hit us.
He shot through his windshield and took another shot at us once he made the turn. This shot punched holes in the trunk. And I might have lost a taillight. I hit the gas and started putting some distance between us and that old truck. He kept shooting as long as we were in range, just as fast as he could reload. While his aim improved on the paved road, we were quickly out of range. Even with nearly a mile between us now he kept coming. Tenacious SOB, I had to give him that. The shadows from the fence posts that ran parallel to the road, gave the road a graduated look, like driving up a thermometer.
We passed a mailbox, Kyoto Farms, it had the same red cloth tied to it. The road was straight I kept putting more distance between us, but he kept coming. We were heading farther out into the country, and needed to turn around. I was starting to worry about getting gas. The cab had a little less than half a tank.