All Night Long

down on her. She tapped the brakes a couple of times in warning.
    But instead o ropping back, the vehicle accelerated.
    Ice formed in her stomach. She was vaguely aware of her, heart. It was thudding heavily in her chest. Fear flowed like acid in her veins. Every survival instinct she possessed was suddenly screaming. The driver of the SUV was trying to scare her, and he was succeeding.
    She pressed harder on the accelerator. Her father had taught her to drive on Lakefront Road. Teens raised in urban environments learned to handle the hazards of city streets and freeway on-ramps, but those raised in rural areas learned other skills. It had been seventeen years since she’d driven this stretch, but she reminded herself that the skills you learned early stayed with you. She’d had an excellent teacher, she remembered. Her father had driven the way he did everything else, the Marine Corps way.
    She had one big advantage. Her compact clung to the curves like a sports car. The SUV was, at heart,
    a truck. As it increased speed, it started to take the sharp nips and tucks in the road in an unwieldy fashion.
    The problem was the sheer rate of speed at which they were traveling, Irene thought.
    Sooner or late ne of them was going to make a mistake and end up in the lake. The waters were deep in this region. Going over the edge would be tantamount to a death sentence.
    She searched her memory for a map of the local landscape. Somewhere up ahead was the entrance to a small, heavily wooded subdivision. Seventeen years ago the real estate venture had not been a roaring success. Only a handful of inexpensive summer homes had been built. With luck, Ventana Estates had been caught in the same time warp that gripped Dunsle he heard tires squeal but dared not take her eyes off the road. One miscalculation at this speed would send her straight through the paper-thin metal barrier.
    She came out of another sharp turn and saw the faded sign for Ventana Estates. It looked as if no one

    had ever bothered to repaint it. That boded well for what she had in mind, she told herself.
    She had to slow for the turn, but the last hairpin curve had bought her a few seconds of time. The SUV had fallen back in an attempt to regain control.
    She hit the brakes hard, spun the steering wheel to the left and stomped on the accelerator. The first portion of road into the failed subdivision had been roughly paved in an attempt to create a more upscale impression on prospective buyers. But she was relieved to note that over the years no one had filled in the gaping potholes.
    The SUV’s tires howled in protest behind her. The driver from hell was braking hard.
    The bastard wa o mad he was going to pursue her into the subdivision.
    Another wave of fear crashed through her. She had been praying that, having chased her off th oadway, the driver of the SUV would be content in his wretched little triumph and continue on along Lakefront Road.
    So much for Plan A, as Pamela would have said. Time for Plan B.
    She could feel cold sweat under her arms. Everything depended on whether or not the subdivision road had been paved beyond the entrance.
    The paved section ended abruptly. The compact lurched and bounced as it made the transition from rough blacktop to even rougher dirt and gravel.
    She took her foot off the accelerator and risked a quick glance into the mirror. Like some ravenou east sensing that its intended prey is tiring, the SUV leaped onto the gravel road to pursue her.
    She followed the looping road, letting the SUV get dangerously close. The behemoth filled her rearview mirror now. She envisioned steel jaws opening to devour the compact. The driver was intent on forcing her back onto Lakefront Road.
    This was as good as it was going to get, she decided. She tromped hard on the accelerator.
    The compact surged forward as though it sensed the fangs hovering close behind.
    Gravel, pebbles and clods of dirt spurted furiously from beneath the rear tires, creating a driving hailstorm of debris.

    She did not have to check the mirrors to see how the SUV had taken the surprise assault. She coul ear the heavy, unrelenting rain of hard pings and sharp thuds as the wave of small stones and gravel struck metal and glass. She knew the driver from hell was looking through a windshield that was being pelted by the small meteor shower churned up by the compact’s tires.
    The SUV hesitated and then fell back. Irene drove faster, following the subdivision’s