PETAR WHIRLED IN A full three-sixty in the middle of the loading bay, making sure Jem hadn't hidden close to the door just to sprint back through the store and take off with Petar's car. Well, technically it was Jem's car, Petar reasoned, but that didn't change the fact that if he took it back, all would be lost.

How could he have been so stupid? The earlier doubts were flooding back, slamming into him with the force of a tsunami. Of course he shouldn't have trusted him on his own.

He heard police sirens in the distance. The air was warming. A breeze blew over Petar's face, bringing with it the scent of motor oil and gasoline.

After taking precious seconds to scan the loading bay one more time, Petar sprinted straight out through the large opening formed by the two concrete walls that hemmed in the bay. Beyond was a trash-strewn grass causeway. To the left, a small picnic area for weary roadside customers. To the right, a grassy slope down to the highway. There was a family eating an early pit-stop breakfast at one of the tables in the picnic area. Petar ran towards them, shouting as he went.

"Hey! Excuse me! Did you see a teenager come through here?"

The family looked up, startled. The wife shook her head, a sandwich still hanging in front of her where she'd been about to take a bite. Like a mirror image, the husband did the same. A small boy, maybe four years old, bounced in his seat and pointed over towards the truck stop parking lot. Petar followed his finger and saw Jem's back, sprinting along the wall of the convenience store toward the Escape.

Petar was off, the world tumbling through his head. Jem must have waited behind the concrete wall at the edge of the loading bay. With three leaping strides, Petar was past the wall's edge. Jem was now halfway between him and the car, moving fast. Another three strides and Petar's feet struck asphalt. Jem was lunging toward the passenger door. Petar closed the gap, ignoring the pain screaming through his leg.

Jem's hand on the door handle.

Petar fifteen feet behind.

The door swung open.

Seven feet.

Tucking his knees, Jem hopped into the car sideways.

Petar stretched out his hands to the open door. Swinging shut.

Slam.

Fingers crushed painfully against glass.

Click.

With an electronic whir, the automatic locks engaged, locking Petar out.

"Let me in!" he roared.

Jem shook his head, breathing hard. Petar pounded his fist on the glass. Jem slid across the console into the driver's seat. With horror, Petar noticed the keys still dangling in the ignition. Petar darted around the hood to the driver's side window just as the Escape's engine revved to life.

Petar was dimly aware that several motorists had left their pumps and were gathering around to see what was causing the commotion. In the convenience store, the short cashier poked her head through the front door. Daisy Dukes craned her neck from behind her. The picnicking family had wandered to the edge of the parking lot, sandwiches still in hand.

The beefy trucker with the red beard who had been in the bathroom hopped out of his rig and strode toward the SUV. He moved like a mountain. The running semi rumbled like an avalanche behind him.

"Eya, buddy! What's the problem here?" he shouted. It didn't come out kindly.

Petar slammed a fist into the window again. The wail of police sirens was getting closer.

"Open up, Jem!"

"He grabbed me!" The frail voice of the cashier drifted from the convenience store. "I called the cops. He's crazy."

"Howsabouts you just step away from thar car, buddy."

The trucker's voice was getting closer. Jem cast a final victorious glance at Petar, then shifted the Escape into drive. Petar's left hand was clasped under the door handle; his other hand shot to the luggage rack on the SUV's roof. He forced his fingers to close over the hot metal. Just in time. Jem slammed the gas and the car shot forward with a squeal of rubber.

Petar's feet left the ground and his left hand tore away from the door handle, sending him into horizontal flight. The jerk tore at his right shoulder, but he managed to hang onto the luggage rack with just one hand. Jem spun the SUV in a wide curve, circling the island of pumps like a shark, then gassed it for the straight stretch toward the highway on-ramp. Petar's boots were scraping and skittering across the asphalt, throwing up chunks of gravel that tinked against the accelerating vehicle. He lifted his feet so they wouldn't get caught under the rear tire. His boots scrabbled against the painted metal until he found a small ledge under the rear door to rest his weight on.

His balance back, Petar swung his left hand up to get a double grip on the luggage rack. The sun-baked metal seared his flesh. If he'd had a chance to form a proper grip, the trucker wouldn't have been able to pull him off the speeding car.

But he didn't.

As Jem flashed around the pumps, the trucker kicked his bulk into overdrive and lumbered in a course that would bring them together just before the SUV left the parking lot. Like a freight train, he seemed to pick up speed as he moved.

Petar didn't even see him coming.

Just as Petar's fingers slapped the hot crossbar on the overhead rack, a massive pair of hands slammed into his back and pulled. It was like being jerked with a fishing rod while stuck through with a hundred-pound hook. Petar felt his shoulder pop as an unstoppable force and an immovable object yanked his body in opposite directions. His body twisted and slammed into the trucker's. Together, they rolled along the body of the car and shot onto the gritty asphalt as the SUV sped past.

Petar's face hit the ground and slid over the gravel chunks as if they were glass. An instant later, all three hundred pounds of trucker struck him, crushing him against the asphalt.

As if through layers of bedrock, Petar heard the muffled sounds of shouting, cheering and clapping. Clapping. Didn't they know? Didn't they know that this stupid elephant had doomed them all? Petar roared with anger and pain and squirmed out from under the trucker's heaving body. He struggled to his knees, and a fist slammed against his cheek, turning the truck stop into a hazy shower of sparks. He stumbled and tripped on the trucker's prostate body. Came down on him like a sack of pillows. The trucker oomphed and exhaled sharply. The smell of beans and Fritos washed over Petar.

This time Petar saw the blow coming. A white tennis shoe swung straight at his face out of the forest of legs around him. Petar rolled and slipped an arm under the foot on the upswing, pushing with its own momentum. Something thumped to the ground beside him with a cry of pain. The trucker oomphed again as the kicker's heels caught him in the sternum.

For the second time, Petar stumbled to his knees. He looked around wildly. He was surrounded. The varied and motley truck stop clientelle had coalesced into a mob. Men and women who had never met each other, whose only common trait was their dumb luck to stop for gas at this particular point in time, were now brothers in arms, differences forgotten at the drop of a hat in the face of a common enemy.

Maybe, Petar reasoned, there was hope for this race.

A rock struck him in the temple. Petar staggered but kept his feet, this time taking care to avoid getting tripped up on the wheezing, bearded speedbump beside him.

"Got another one for ya!" Daisy Dukes shouted.

"Let him have it!"

"Thief!"

"Rapist!"

Petar spun slowly, arms up in defense. It was a witch hunt, and they didn't even know what he'd done.

From the overpass, the piercing shriek of sirens grew to a crescendo. Out of the corner of his eye, Petar saw Jem swing the SUV onto the eastbound ramp.

Petar had fifteen seconds.

Option: Wait until the police arrived, try to explain. Yeah, right.

Option: Take off on foot, try to find a car somewhere. Not much better. He'd get picked up in seconds.

Option: Barge out of here in the speedbump's big rig. It was still on, rumbling quietly at the edge of the parking lot, oblivious to the angry mob at its flank. Petar ducked as the husband from the picnic table swung his arm in a pitcher's motion. A rock whizzed harmlessly past his head.

"You're not going anywhere, buddy."

"Yeah, we got ya now, man. Cops on they way!"

Ten seconds.

Thanks for reading my story! Please VOTE and let me know what you think of it so far, then check out Chapter 19!