The Lindy Lewis Diaries

   I put my powerful BMW in drive and raced down through the dark hotel ramp. Then my breath froze in my throat as I met a red car and glimpsed the familiar face of J.T. sitting in the passenger seat.
  Dear God, help me, I whispered as I flew out to the freeway. With my eyes glued to the road and my hands in a viselike grip on the wheel, I prayed he hadn't seen me.

  However, a short distance behind her J.T. yelled, "That was her! Okay pal, let's see what this pussy car can do!"

  Traffic was heavy even though it was late at night, and likely everyone was going north too to get an early start on the long July holiday weekend.  A steady stream of cars, bikers, vans, and pickups with campers were all traveling at break-neck speed as the urgency to get away snaked its way along the pavment and covered  the faces of the drivers and passengers.
   Jones gunned the motor in his red car and recklessly weaved in and out amongst the traffic, then caught up with me and rammed right into the back bumper of my car.
   Oh God, I prayed again and fought for control coming dangerously close to a deep ravine.
   "Hit her again, push her over," J.T. yelled, then curiously twisted around and checked the back window as the air suddenly reverbrated with an ear-deafening roar. He gaped at the scene unfolding behind them and his voice cracked as he said, "Fuck, you won't believe this man; the whole fucking town is behind us on their Harleys!"
   He watched bug-eyed then as they were surrounded by black leather and exhaust fumes closing them in. As a sea of black helmets with goggles looking like an army of faceless monsters on thundering bikes slowed them down. 
   "Goddamn she's getting away," he growled as the tailights of Lindy's powerful black BMW sailed out of sight in the late night traffic. "Fuck, we lost her, pull off on the next exit," and J.T.slammed his fist on the dash.