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She pushed harder on the gas. “What did you hit them with?”
He’d thrown the weapon in the backseat, where she’d put the gun. “The rim tool,” he said, watching the thugs through the rear window. “It’s what you change tires with.”
A popping noise made her screech. “They’re shooting at us!”
Forrest had spun around and, holding the gun out the window, he fired. She screamed as a tremendous noise filled the car, making her ears ring.
“Just keep driving,” Forrest shouted. “They only have a pistol, the bullets can’t travel this far.”
“Dac will hear the gunfire,” she reminded him. “What if they shoot him?”
“Dac wasn’t in the field.”
“But you said—”
Forrest had turned around and was once again looking out of the rear window instead of hanging out the side. “I know what I said. Just keep driving.”
“I am driving,” she told him. Her hands were already cramping up from holding on to the wheel as the car jostled over the washboard road. Her teeth were rattling together and her entire body bounced against the seat. “Oh, no, Forrest!” she shouted as another car, coming toward them, appeared before her.
“It’s the other thugs,” Forrest said. “They must have heard the gunshots.”
“What do I do?” With no intention of slowing down, she really didn’t need an answer. It was just her nerves talking.
“Just keep driving, honey,” he said.
Focused, she kept the car in the center of the road, making the other one swerve as they met. Both men, the driver and the passenger, looked baffled as she passed them.
She kept the gas pedal against the floor and the jarring ride continued. No matter how hard she attempted to tighten every muscle in her body, she bounced and shook.
As if leaping out of nowhere, the highway appeared before them. She stomped both feet on the brake, but nothing happened. “Forrest, I’m hitting the brake, but we’re not slowing down. I’m not going to make the corner, I know I’m not.”
“We’re going too fast for the brakes,” he said. “Just go straight across the highway. That road leads to the north side of the lake. We can catch the bootlegger’s road back to the resort.”
Twyla swore all four tires left the ground when they crossed the highway. They had to have, because for a split second the ride had turned smooth, like when she’d been in Forrest’s airplane. Her landing, though, was nothing like Forrest’s had been. The top of her head bumped the car’s roof and her backside hit the seat so hard it stung all the way up her back.
“You’re doing great, honey,” Forrest said. “Just keep driving.”
“Should I slow down?” she asked. “Where’s the bootlegger’s road?”
“It’s a ways yet. And no, don’t slow down.”
Before she could ask why, the popping of gunfire started again.
She screamed. “I guess the other thugs are chasing us.”
She didn’t expect Forrest to answer. She couldn’t have heard him if he had. He was hanging out of the window, shooting the gun.
When there was a moment of silence, she asked, “Did you hit them?”
“It’s a little hard to hit anything, bouncing around like this,” Forrest answered as he pulled the gun she’d thrown in the car over the seat. In an instant, he was back to hanging out of the window, firing again.
The thugs seemed to be having the same issue. None of their bullets were hitting the car, at least none that she knew of. Although Forrest’s gun was so loud, she couldn’t have heard a cow hitting the car. When the noise stopped her ears were ringing louder than the resort’s phone. “Now what?” she yelled.
Forrest sat down in the seat. “There’s a road to the left coming up.”
Remembering the highway, she said, “The brakes don’t work.”
“You have to pump them,” he said. “Don’t just stomp on them. Pump them like you would a tire pump.”
They were both shouting in order to hear, and the thugs were still on their tail. “I’ve never used a tire pump.”
“Step on the pedal several times, short and fast.”
Following his directions, she was relieved to feel pressure build beneath her feet and the car starting to slow. “That road?” she asked, noting a break in the long grassy field ahead.
“Yes, that one, but don’t slow down too much,” Forrest said. “They’re still coming.”
Having never taken a corner at such speed, Twyla closed one eye, not wanting to witness what might happen as she wrenched the wheel. Her arms trembled from her efforts, but the steering wheel wouldn’t turn as far as she needed it to. Just when she thought they’d end up in the field, the car made the corner.
