I didn’t think anything of it when Richard disappeared from my rear view mirror. He’d been hanging back a little ways behind me anyways as we took the twists and turns going around the mountain, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary with him not coming back into view immediately.

What did seem out of the ordinary, though, was the big truck that seemingly appeared out of nowhere!

It was a hulking old Chevy, painted black like someone had gotten carried away with the spray can. It came trundling out of nowhere, appearing right on my tail. The pickup loomed behind me, filling my rear mirror like it was trying to get me to pull over so it could pass. They were right on my rear bumper, so close I couldn’t even see the driver’s face in the large, lifted truck.

I figured it was just some jackass. We had as many of them in these mountains as any other place on the planet, and some people were just assholes. They weren’t having any of it. Freaked out, I tried to wave it by again, my arm frantically waving back and forth. There wasn’t any oncoming traffic, and they had plenty of room to pass me if they wanted.

Instead, the driver just laid on their horn, blaring it over the music on my radio.

Really freaked out now, I waved more fervently.

The pickup’s engine roared like a lion as they gassed it and pulled up beside me. A shadow seemed to fall over my car, cloaking me like a sinister cape as the truck came closer to the driver’s side door, the roar of its heavy treaded tires singing on the highway as it swerved towards me, stopping just inches away from my door.

Sudden fear gripped my heart. I slammed on the brakes, not knowing what else to do. Where was Richard? Who was this truck? Was it the Skull and Bones?

The truck slammed on its brakes and swerved into my car, the crunch of metal on metal filling my world as the steering wheel lurched out of my hands.

I screamed as I tried to regain control of the wheel to keep myself in the lane.

The pickup pulled away again and slammed into my little Jetta once more. My car lurched to the right, my tires smoking as tears began to stream down my face.

I kept my foot on the brakes, the only thing I could think to do, and drove up onto the minuscule shoulder. I screamed again and tried to think of what to do, but my brain was panicking and no ideas came to me. Should I try and run?

My car’s tires threw up gravel, peppering the underside with rocks and pebbles as my wheels slowed to a halt just as I hit the mountain side guard rail. I coasted a little further, my eyes tracking a big rock. My car thunked again loudly, and lurched up into the air before coming back down again. Thank God it wasn’t the other side! I’d be over a cliff, down into the pines below if I’d been over there.

Up ahead, the truck came to a stop, its tail lights like the eyes of Satan himself. I saw a hand reach up and adjust the rear view mirror.

What were they doing? I couldn’t tell. I just knew I was out here on this stretch of road, all alone, just me and them. Even during the day it wasn’t frequently traveled. All sorts of things could happen here, and I wouldn’t have anyone to help me.

My breath came hot and ragged, burning my lungs with each exhale. This was it. My stalkers, the Skull and Bones, they’d trapped me without the protection of my bodyguard.

I watched as the reverse light popped on, bright white and blazing against those hellish tail lights, a New Mexico plate on the rear bumper.

Panicked, I looked behind me and threw my car in reverse. I’d run. That’s what I’d do! I began to pull my car out and return the way I’d come.

Then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, the black pickup shifted gears back to drive, and the rear tires squealed like a duet of angry banshees as it took off down the road in a fishtail.

My heart still pumping like I’d taken a double black diamond slope at breakneck speed, my face perspiring like I’d just hiked ten miles uphill, I watched in disbelief as the pickup disappeared down the highway.

As I looked into the highway in fear, I realized why it left. Another car, an old silver Mustang, came barreling around the corner, zipping past me with a burbling of its smooth engine.

Though the driver didn’t come to my aid, I still breathed a sigh of relief at my savior’s unlikely passing. Because, even if Richard wasn’t around, at least the pickup wasn’t either.