Warhol's Prophecy

‘Fucking idiot,’ roared Rob, looking again at the rear-view mirror, but still seeing only glaring headlights.

The rain continued to pelt down. Above him the heavens were illuminated by another searing white flash, and soon thunder rumbled loudly.

The car behind rammed him again.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Rob shouted angrily.

He stepped on the accelerator, sending a curtain of spray up behind him.

The other car followed, swung out into the road and kept pace about three yards behind, but slightly to his right.

Rob looked in the wing mirror, and saw that the vehicle was now driving down the centre of the road.

It suddenly swerved across and slammed again into the Audi, the clash so great it was all Rob could do to keep his own car under control.

There was another impact almost immediately and, this time, he felt the Audi skidding. He was careering towards the sodden grass and mud that flanked the road.

For terrifying seconds he thought he was going to lose control – hit the small ramp of earth and crash into the trees beyond. But he guided the car back onto the road, great geysers of mud spewing up from under churning tyres.

The darkness was lit momentarily by the cold white glow of lightning, and in that instant Rob saw the other car drawing up alongside him.

He glanced to his right, trying to see the driver, gesticulating madly at this fucking moron who seemed so intent on running him off the road.

But the rain and darkness hid the occupant and, despite its proximity, still also masked the make of vehicle.

They were coming to a corner.

The pursuing car veered sharply to the left, and caught the Audi broadside.

Both cars swerved on the waterlogged surface. Rob gripped the steering wheel furiously and twisted it.

‘Come on then, you prick,’ he bellowed, sending the Audi back across the road towards the other vehicle.

As they collided, the other car swung away slightly but, before Rob could enjoy his victory, it had crashed back into him so hard he felt something prod against his leg.

Looking down, he realized that his door had been dented so badly that part of the interior frame had come loose.

What the fuck was this bastard playing at?

Rob accelerated again, the needle on his speedometer touching sixty.

He knew this was too fast for safety in such treacherous conditions, but his only thought now was to escape this madman – whoever the fuck he was.

Another jarring collision.

The other car was level with him again, bumping into him almost continuously, nudging him towards the muddy verge.

Rob’s anger was mixed with fear now.

He had no idea what this bastard was doing, why he was doing it – and, more worryingly, how far he would persist in taking this dangerous game.

The Audi was battered yet again, and Rob could see now that the other car was moving ahead of him.

Trying to cut him off?

Rob hit his brakes, allowing the other driver to get in front of him. Then he accelerated. Out, and across into the other lane, so that Rob was on the outside now.

He was driving on the wrong side of a darkened road.

Perhaps if he could push the offending vehicle off the tarmac . . .

Just nudge it onto the verge.

Disable it long enough to escape from it . . . then he would phone the police and . . .

The entire car interior was filled with such blinding light that Rob actually raised a hand to shield his eyes.

The lightning now lit up the heavens with a savage explosion of whiteness.

But it was not lightning, Rob realized.

It was the headlights of a lorry.

And it was heading straight for him.

74

ALL HE HEARD was an incredible cacophony of sound.

The blaring of the lorry’s horn.

The squealing of tyres on wet tarmac.

The ever-present rumbling of the thunder.

It fused together to create one unholy eruption of noise that filled his head and drummed in his ears.

‘No!’ shouted Rob and wrenched the wheel to one side, desperate to get out of the lorry’s path.

But the other driver saw his predicament and slammed back into him, keeping him pinned in the right-hand lane. Keeping him in the path of the oncoming lorry.

Ploughing through the rain, the juggernaut hurtled down the road, sending up geysers of spray all around it. Its driver was gesturing wildly with one hand, trying to wave Rob out of his path.

Rob stared at the lorry. There were less than fifty yards between them.

He tried to draw back, to slip behind the other car, to get back across onto the correct side of the road.

But the other car dropped back too, shunting him again into the path of the oncoming juggernaut.

Forty yards now.

Rob wrenched the steering wheel to one side, and slammed again into his aggressor, but the car held firm and its driver sent it careening back into the Audi.

Thirty yards . . .

There was no way past.

Still stuck in the way of the speeding juggernaut, Rob glanced down at his speedo.

Forty miles an hour.

That was too fast. He would never avoid the lorry.

Twenty yards . . .

The distance between them was closing too fast. But the other car wouldn’t allow him to pull over. Wouldn’t allow him to get out of the way.

Fifteen yards . . .

One chance?

Rob drove his foot down hard on the accelerator, and the Audi roared straight towards the lorry, as if intent on ramming the massive vehicle.

The needle now touched fifty-five.

And, all the time, the juggernaut came nearer.

Ten yards . . .

Rob pressed down harder.

Sixty-five.

The lights almost blinded him.

He could now hear the roar of the lorry’s engine.

Seventy miles an hour.

The Audi sped past the car on the left, still screaming its way towards the lorry.

Five yards.

He spun the wheel suddenly.

There was barely enough space for the Audi to slip through. As he worked the wheel madly, Rob felt a