Creative Content

     With the pickup trucks on my tail, I smashed the gas pedal against the floor and pushed all 18 wheels to a near 120 miles per hour. I was flying blind, racing through black and blue with nothing around me but the flat desert lowlands and barren boulders that looked snowcapped in the gray light of the moon. There were no stars in the sky that night, only intermittent clouds blowing across the sky like tumbleweeds. As the chase ensued, the pickup trucks closed in around me like a pack of wolves hunting the lone buffalo. A truck with lifted suspension and oversized tires raced through the desert sand on my right, absorbing the rocks and brambles with ease. On my left, two more pickup trucks sped up from the rear. One of the trucks came into view of my driver window and out of the cabin stuck the long narrow barrel of an automatic rifle that aimed up at me and began shooting rounds that shone bright like stars - the only stars in the sky that night. The driver window shattered, followed by the passenger, and one after another I heard the whizzing of bullets as they flew past my face and disappeared into the night. More stars twinkled in the corner of my eye and suddenly a hot pain touched me as one of the bullets grazed my calf. I released my foot from the gas pedal and the firing ceased, not too long, but long enough for me to reach into the cabin’s overhead compartment and feel the grip of my 9 millimeter handgun. I plunged my foot down on the gas pedal again. With the steering wheel in my left hand, and my gun in my right, there was no time to aim, I stuck my gun out the window and fired several blind rounds, but my pistol was no match for the barrage of bullets from their automatic rifles.