Chapter 7 - The True Face

"Hold on, Emma!" I shouted, pressing the accelerator to the floorboards. The old Ford truck groaned, its V8 engine roaring as we hit eighty miles per hour on the narrow, two-lane road.

The SUV behind us bumped into our rear bumper. The impact sent a violent jolt through the steering wheel, nearly ripping it from my grip. Emma shrieked, curling into a ball on the seat.

"Stop the car, Rachel!" Vance’s voice didn't carry through the metal, but I could see his manic expression through his windshield in the rearview mirror. He rammed us again, harder this time, forcing the rear end of the truck to fishtail slightly before I managed to straighten it out.

Up ahead, the bright neon sign of the highway gas station flickered through the trees. It was an old, abandoned Texaco station that only had a few automated pumps working at night—completely deserted.

Beside the station, a pair of headlights emerged from the interstate off-ramp. A sleek red rental sedan pulled into the gas station lot.

Tom.

I didn't hesitate. I slammed on the brakes, turning violently into the gravel lot of the gas station. The truck slid sideways, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and gravel before coming to a grinding halt right next to Tom’s rental car.

Tom kicked his door open before his car had even fully stopped. He was out in a second, a heavy iron flashlight in his hand, his face pale with fury and terror.

Behind us, Vance’s SUV roared into the parking lot, blocking the exit. He slammed on the brakes, the vehicle skidding to a halt just ten feet away.

Vance stepped out of the SUV. In the harsh fluorescent lights of the gas station canopy, I finally saw his true face. He looked gaunt, his hair matted, his eyes bloodshot and wide with a psychotic fixation. He held the tire iron tightly in his right hand.

"Tom," Vance hissed, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Reunion time."

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Tom didn't say a word. He stepped in front of the truck door, shielding Emma and me with his own body. "It ends tonight, David. The police are on their way."

"They won't make it in time," Vance snarled, lunging forward with the iron bar raised high.