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Chapter19
DECKER HAD SEEN THE HEADLIGHTScoming up on him but figured the person would slow down and back off.
That was not how it played out. Not even close.
The first strike catapulted his big frame straight ahead. His front and side curtain airbags deployed, and he felt his skin tingle and then burn slightly from the released gases powering the safety devices.
Momentarily disoriented by the collision, Decker looked in the rearview mirror and saw the lights coming at him again. The headlights were set higher than his taillights.
Truck. A big one. He thought he could see the huge metal bumper right before…
The rear of his car was lifted completely off the road with the next impact.
His airbags having already burst open, Decker felt his chest hit the steering column after colliding with the airbag and crushing it. But the air pocket still prevented serious injury.
He cut the wheel to the right, and then the left. The truck mirrored those movements. He could smell gasoline.
Great, his tank must’ve gotten cracked.
He floored it and the car leapt forward.
The truck accelerated to match this burst of speed.
Decker dug in his pocket for his phone. His fingers tapped on the screen.
If he could just call 911…
Then the phone was flung out of his hand when the truck smashed into him again. This sent his car into a sideways spin. He felt like a NASCAR driver who’d had his car’s rear tapped by another at high speed. Fishtailing, totally out of control. It was not a great feeling.
But Decker had been in high-speed chases before as a cop. He knew what to do. He didn’t fight the wheel but rather steered in the direction of the spin to regain control of the car.
He slid sideways down the asphalt, tires smoking, fuel leaking, and Decker fearful that heat from one would ignite the other.
He came to a stop about fifty feet later. He pushed the deployed airbag out of the way and looked out the window.
The monster truck was heading his way, a T-bone impact definitely in the works.
Well, screw that.
Decker pulled his weapon, rolled down the window, took aim, and unloaded his mag first at the radiator, then down to the tires, and finally up to the windshield. Three fractured circles were imprinted on the glass where his bullets hit.
The truck immediately veered off, ran into the grass shoulder, regained traction, shot back onto the road, and limped off, smoke now coming from its engine.
Decker didn’t know if he’d hit the driver or not. He could only hope he had.
He was debating whether to go after the truck, when the smell of gas suddenly strengthened.
He quickly undid his seat belt, bent down and retrieved his phone, kicked open the door, and hustled away from the car. He dialed 911 and told them what had happened, giving his location as best he could. Then he watched with a sickening feeling as a lick of flames emerged at the rear of his ride.
He instantly turned and sprinted away from the car. When the explosion rocked the dark sky, he was flung forward by the concussive blast and drilled face first into the hard shoulder of dirt, grass, and gravel.
And that’s where the cops found him when they showed up later.
***
“You just can’t keep out of trouble, can you?”
Decker looked groggily up from his hospital bed at Lancaster hovering over him and furiously chewing her gum.
