Chapter 18 - The Steel Bumper

Julian fought the wheel with his single good arm, his muscles burning as he yanked the heavy truck back into the lane just inches from the rusted guardrail.

BANG!

Miller hit them again, harder this time, driving the front right corner of the tow truck into the F-250’s rear quarter panel, trying to spin them into the rocky ditch.

Through the rain-streaked side mirror, Julian could see Miller behind the wheel of the tow truck—his face red, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his hands wrestling the heavy steering wheel.

"Give him the truck, Julian!" Sterling yelled, his previous calm composure finally cracking as he looked down at the five-hundred-foot drop into the ravine. "He’ll kill us both!"

Julian didn't hit the brakes. He shifted the heavy transmission lever down into second gear with his knee.

The engine screamed in protest, the RPM needle bouncing off the redline. The F-250 slowed down instantly, the sudden deceleration catching Miller off guard.

The heavy black tow truck shot past their left side, its steel bumper scraping a long, spark-flying gouge down the driver’s side door of the pickup.

Julian re-engaged the drive gear, slammed his boot onto the accelerator, and drove the heavy steel front winch of the F-250 straight into the rear axle of the tow truck.

The tow truck’s back tires lifted two inches off the slick pavement. It spun sideways across both lanes, its heavy iron frame slamming hard into the concrete bridge support of the old railway overpass.

The impact was catastrophic.

The tow truck’s cabin folded like an accordion around the concrete pillar, the engine exploding into a massive ball of orange fire and black smoke that lit up the dark forest for half a mile.

Julian didn't stop to look back.

He swerved around the burning wreckage, the heat from the explosion blistering the paint on the side of the truck, and kept driving toward the glowing red neon lights of Oak Ridge in the distance.

The digital clock on the dash read 5:02 AM.

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