Free Road Rage by Robert T. Jeschonek Page A

lane...and slowing down to pace Walter’s Mercedes.
    At first, Walter couldn’t figure out why the Nissan was holding position beside him instead of swooping past. Then, in his rearview mirror, he spotted a set of headlights cruising up from behind him.
    As soon as the headlights surged to within a car-length of the Mercedes, they peeled left, jolting over behind the Nissan. Then, they were back, flashing
bright-dim bright-dim in the rearview, accompanied by the squawking of a horn.
    Walter held steady at seventy mph, but he gripped the wheel tighter. As the lights darted left and back again, bright-dim bright-dim, he understood the situation.
    The Nissan was boxing in the driver at the rear, matching speed with Walter to keep the third vehicle from passing. Walter recognized the game from personal experience.
    He’d done it himself in the past, a time or ten.
    The headlights behind him went bright and stayed there, pressing closer, urging him to go faster. Walter’s hands sweated on the wheel.
    He was just as boxed in as the car behind him. If he speeded up, he knew the Nissan would speed up, too...and the Mercedes would never get enough of a jump on the silver street rod to open a gap for the third vehicle to slip through.
    If Walter slowed down, so would the Nissan. If he cut his speed suddenly, he might get hit from behind. If he veered off onto the berm, he might slide on the gravel and crash in the fields along the road.
    It was a bad situation, and he knew it.
    â€œWalter?” said Sue, stirring in the passenger seat. “What’s going on?”
    Walter kept his eyes on the road and held steady, but inwardly he flinched. He wished she had stayed asleep until the end of the action; Sue was a terrible passenger under the best circumstances, prone to sudden jumps and outcries over nothing. She even got alarmed if a car pulled up to a stop sign on a side street ahead of them in their own suburban neighborhood.
    â€œNothing to worry about,” Walter said tightly. “Get some more shuteye, honey.”
    Unfortunately, Sue sniffed out the danger right away. “Oh my God,” she said, looking left at the Nissan, then twisting around to squint into the high beams behind them. “Slow down, Walter,” she said breathlessly, the seeds of panic already audible in her voice.
    â€œHoney,” said Walter, watching the brights rush closer in the rearview. “Please close your eyes. I promise everything will be fine.”
    â€œSlow down,” said Sue, her voice rising. “Pull over and let him pass.”
    â€œHe might hit us,” said Walter. “He’s right on our ass.”
    â€œI asked you not to do this anymore,” she said, anger joining the panic in her voice. “No more road rage.”
    The headlights cut left, then jumped back seconds later. “It’s not me,” said Walter. He pried his right hand from the wheel and wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. “I swear I didn’t do anything. It’s this maniac beside me.”
    â€œJust pull over!” said Sue.
    Walter wiped the palm of his left hand on his pants, then tightened both hands on the wheel. He knew she wouldn’t like what he was planning to do...but he was sure she wouldn’t like anything he did at this point. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “Hold on tight.”
    Then, he wrenched the wheel left.
    The Mercedes crossed the center line and leaped toward the Nissan. Sue was already shrieking when the two cars made contact.
    Propelled by the impact, the Nissan flashed left, sailing toward the side of the road. After the bump, Walter swung the Mercedes right, shunting back into the right lane.
    At which point, the third vehicle slammed into him.
    The plan had been to nudge the Nissan onto the berm, then bolt the Mercedes back into the right lane and let the third vehicle pass on the left. Unfortunately, the driver behind him had gone a different