Free Three Steps to Hell by Mike Holman Page B

kisses to Maria? I tell you she fancied you. There was major chemistry there. Gorgeous looking, rich, possibly a divorce coming up if her husband’s off playing away from home. Could be the answer to all your problems Sarge.”
    “Very funny. Probably the start of a lot more.”
    Tom drove quietly towards Brampton on the A693. He was experiencing difficulty getting his mind off Maria Peterson. Her beauty and femininity had made more of an impression on him than he would like to admit. The image of her he first saw when he entered her kitchen was impacted on his mind like a photo. Why couldn’t someone like that truly be interested in me, he thought to himself. Perhaps love at first sight is real after all. Dave Sweeting broke Tom’s silent satisfying thoughts of Maria.
    “No messages Sarge, all quiet on the western front thank God. You were deep in thought.”
    “Mmm, a lot on my mind Dave.”
    “A lady with a name starting with M perhaps,” retorted Dave.
    Tom was aware of a white lorry heading towards them in the opposite direction being followed by a motorcycle with its headlight on full beam.
    “Look at the speed that bike’s approaching the back of that lorry Dave, he must have some sort of death wish.”
    As the lorry got closer the large powerful black motorcycle pulled out sharply and accelerated hard to overtake, head on towards Tom. Such was the motorcyclist’s acceleration past the lorry that the front wheel momentarily left the tarmac.
    Tom was forced to brake slightly and pull over as close to the nearside kerb as his driving skills would allow to avoid a head on impact with the bike, which did not slow at all. Tom flashed his headlights and shook his fist angrily. The bike negotiated its way back onto its own lane in front of the lorry narrowly avoiding a collision, the rider seemed oblivious as to their presence. As the bike had passed, the pillion passenger had glared at Tom and stuck two fingers up.
    “Christ, I thought they were going to hit us head on then,” said Tom still shocked.
    “Fucking idiots will be in casualty before they know it riding like that, must have been doing about 90.”
    Tom’s nerves and anger settled and he returned to a leisurely drive back to the station.
    After several minutes he looked in his rear view mirror.
    “Hey Dave, we’ve got that fucking bike behind us now, he’s going quite slowly now though.”
    Dave Sweeting unlocked his safety belt, moved in his seat and turned so he could watch out of the back window. “Don’t know what they’re up to, the pillion has got his rucksack off his back and looks like he’s trying to get something out of it but I can’t see what.”
    Sweetface watched with interest while the pillion replaced his rucksack on his back and pulled his visor down over his face.
    “Don’t know what they’re up to Sarge. Perhaps they’ve just been using the road like a race track and decided to get sensible.”
    “Here you go they’re off again now,” said Tom as he glanced in his mirror.
    The bike suddenly gained very quickly on them and started to overtake at speed. As it passed the front offside corner of their car the bike slowed and the pillion passenger turned round and pointed a revolver in Tom’s direction. He braked and swerved harshly as they heard a shot. Tom clipped the kerb then mounted the grass verge and brought the car to a halt. No damage, no impact. The motorcyclist continued ahead of them, the pillion firing the gun into the air.
    “You okay Dave?”
    “Yeah fine. Fucking bastards. Shit, what was that all about for fuck’s sake?”
    “Road rage I reckon. I’m sure it was an imitation though and they were just blanks,” Tom said as he started to manoeuvre the car off the verge.
    “Well it scared the shit out of me!” exclaimed Sweetface.
    The bike had disappeared in the distance at speed and was now well out of view.
    “Obviously didn’t like you shaking your fist at them when they nearly hit us the first