50
Why Johnny Can’t Speed
chine guns, a Mark IV rocket launcher protruded from the rear trunk! Fortunately the shot had hit at a bad angle or he’d be missing a wheel and his ability to maneuver would have been drastically, perhaps fatally, reduced. He did an S just in time. Another rocket shrieked past his bumper.
The turret fifties were doing their job, but it was slow, too slow! Another rocket strike would finish him and now the Cad had its big guns going, too. He wished to hell he was in the cab of a big United- Truckers tractor-trailer, high above the concrete, with another driver and a gunner on the twin 60mm’s. A crack appeared in his rear window as the Cad’s guns concentrated their fire. He turned and twisted, accelerated and slowed, not daring to give his opponent another clear shot with those Mark IV’s.
Chance time, Frank, baby. Remember Salt Lake City!
He cut hard left. The Cad cut right to get behind him. At the proper (yes, yes!) second he dropped an emergency switch.
The rear backup lights dropped off the J.J. At the same time a violent crrumpp! threw him forward so hard he could feel the cross-harness bite into his chest. Fighting desperately for control and cursing all the way, he slammed into the resilient center divider with a jolt that rattled his teeth, two wheels spinning crazily off the pavement, then cut all the way back across the five lanes. Fighting a busted something all the way, he managed to wrestle the battered sedan to a tired halt on the gravel shoulder.