Then those headlights came up that hill, blazing towards the car. I went faster again, but the truck kept gaining, getting closer and closer, filling the car with light, nearly blinding me. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” I squinted, leaning forward. Where the hell were we now? I might be able to navigate the road all right, but not blind.

There was a jolt, and a moment later, a mailbox came tumbling across the hood, slamming into the windshield and then over the top of my car. I gasped, swerving back onto the road, then back again after over-compensating. I had enough time to hope the mailbox would at least slow him down before we was right back on my tailgate. In the passenger’s seat, Nancy was wailing, her gasping breaths sounding just as scared as I felt. I wished I could comfort her – even grown up, she hated roller coasters, so I had a feeling her reaction wasn’t far off from what she’d have been like if I had managed to fix her, just more extreme – but I had my hands full keeping us on the road.

In fact, as I regretted being unable to calm Nancy, the street seemed suddenly, a few feet in front of the car, to vanish, ending in a group of trees. There was that sharp turn, I mused. Now, which way did it go? I didn’t have long to decide; I went with my gut, said a quick prayer that went something like, ‘Don’t let me get us both killed like this,’ and turned left.

I had chosen poorly. The car jolted a bit as it went off the road, and then again, much stronger, as the front tires slammed into the ditch. I fell forward, throwing my arms in front of my face to avoid slamming it straight into the steering wheel. The truck zoomed past behind us as a scream that I was pretty sure was mine echoed through the car, followed by panting that I knew for sure came from my lungs.

I glanced over at Nancy, seeing something wet, shining on her forehead. I reached over to her still shoulder, the sound of the truck’s engine growing fainter and fainter. I must have imagined it all after all, and now…

And then the sound stopped for a moment before starting again. It took a second for me to realize it was getting closer. I threw the car into reverse, hit the gas, but the tires just spun uselessly, as the man with the scar got closer and closer.