The Genesis Plague (2010)

there was no stopping now, thought Flaherty.
    He punched the accelerator and leaned on the horn.
    Seeing the headlights racing towards them, the befuddled workmen barely had time to react. They hit the deck and grabbed hold of the safety rail that looped around the truck’s platform, fully anticipating a violent collision. One brave worker vaulted the rail and dropped clumsily to the roadway before scurrying out of view.
    Flaherty gripped the wheel at ten to two, pulled slightly to the right to aim for the narrow opening. He winced on the approach and clenched his teeth.
    The wide-bodied Concorde slipped cleanly through the gap with inches to spare on either side. But not fifteen metres ahead, a second truck blocked his lane. Flaherty corrected the wheel hard to the left and slalomed around the truck, so close that the passenger-side rearview mirror sheared off with a loud clack.
    His heart was in overdrive and adrenaline had all his senses buzzing. And knowing that the most dangerous leg of this obstacle course still lay ahead only added to his anxiety.
    In his remaining side mirror he saw the Explorer bob and weave to avoid the second truck. But the assassin’s slight miscalculation ground the Explorer’s metal side panels along the tunnel wall with a showering plume of orange sparks. It cost the assassin precious seconds, but he quickly resumed the chase.
    ‘Son of a bitch. Can’t shake him,’ Flaherty grumbled.
    He focused again on the tunnel, which now began arcing downward like the curl of a question mark. He braked lightly along the sharp bend that gradually semicircled until yielding to a long and empty straightaway. He hit the gas hard again and the surreal sensation of rocketing through the tunnel’s tight confines made him feel like a bullet being shot through the barrel of a gun - the lights whipping by.
    Knowing the worst was yet to come, he clamped his hands tighter around the wheel.
    The straightaway angled slightly and Flaherty spotted construction barriers topped with flashing amber lights shaped like lollipops. Immediately beyond the cordon, the ramp tunnel yawned open where it joined the wide interstate tunnel at an extremely tight Y. However, with Flaherty coming the wrong way down the ramp the turn would be treacherous. He could see the headlights of vehicles zipping through the tunnel at highway speed, as well as the formidable cement barricades that lined the tunnel median.
    He drew breath, held it, stomped on the brake pedal. The car bowled through the barriers, flinging them up and out. He pulled the wheel all the way to the right and the car commenced a runaway spin into the oncoming traffic.
    The next second was a blur of screeching tyres and blaring horns.
    The Concorde dragged heavily across the roadway, managed to avoid hitting a sedan cruising along the slow lane, but careened sideways into a yellow moving truck that was speeding in the fast lane. Flaherty felt the Concorde’s front end crumple and snap. The collision was bone crunching, but prevented the Concorde from striking the cement median, even managed to pull the car straight with forward momentum. Disbelieving that he was still alive and that the truck’s driver had enough wherewithal to not lose control, Flaherty immediately hit the accelerator and cranked at the wheel to tug free from the truck. The manoeuvre blew out the truck’s front tyre, forcing it to roll to a stop.
    ‘Sorry, buddy,’ Flaherty muttered.
    Flaherty’s heart nearly gave out when he heard a bellowing air horn that could only belong to a very large truck. All his muscles went tight as his eyes snapped to his side mirror. He saw the Explorer cut blindly into the roadway - a grave miscalculation that put the assassin directly into the path of a hulking semi. The big-rig locked its brakes … the cab jostling madly from side to side … the tractor swinging wide with its locked tyres churning grey smoke.
    But still the Explorer couldn’t accelerate fast enough to skirt the semi, which struck with brute force. The Explorer seemed to explode into a thousand pieces - glass and metal shooting out in all directions.
    Flaherty barely glimpsed the assassin’s body as it was catapulted out through the Explorer’s windshield, over the median, and into the windshield of another big eighteen-wheeler barrelling through the Pike’s westbound tube.
    In the side mirror, he stole a final glimpse of the jackknifed tractor trailer and the mangled Explorer. Then