Stanley Abbott: Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 30, No. 13, Mid-December, 1985

The car was barely moving fifty-one miles an hour when suddenly the moving van jerked closer to the shoulder, enlarging the space between the two trucks. Freed from the vise-like grip, the little yellow hatchback picked up speed and passed the two cursing truck drivers.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Sissy and Joel had held on to each other and remained silent.

“Yea, Mommy!” yelled Joel, triumphantly.

Alice leaned on the steering wheel and looked at her brave little boy.

“Yea, Joel,” she responded in a exhausted voice.

“Mom, look!” cried Sissy, pointing through the shattered windshield. “There’s a police car up ahead.”

Alice pushed the pedal to the floor. “Hang on, kids. It’s time to get a speeding ticket.”

Officer Berry Walker and his partner, Frank Sheppard, looked at each other as the yellow hatchback sped by them doing eighty miles an hour.

“That’s the trouble with today’s world,” said Frank as he flipped on the lights and siren. “We get no respect.”

Alice wound down her window as the squad car pulled up behind. She stuck her arm out and motioned for the policemen to pull alongside.

“Fold up Charlie’s note and give it to me,” said Alice. Sissy obeyed quickly.

As the police car with its two confused officers came alongside, Alice held the piece of paper out. The policeman on the passenger side reached over and took it from her hand.

At first, Berry and Frank couldn’t believe what they were reading, but after they called in the license number of the hatchback and realized they were dealing with the ex-wife of a known gangland enforcer, there was little doubt that the threat was real. Just what they could do about it, they didn’t know. They called for assistance and then pulled the patrol car ahead of the hatchback to clear the highway ahead.

Alice looked at the gas gauge. The needle was resting just above “E.”

“Sissy, take my lipstick out of my purse and write ‘gas’ in big letters on the windshield.”

“But the glass is all cracked.”

“That’s okay. The policemen will still be able to read it.”

“Hey, what’s that kid writing on the glass?” asked Frank, looking back.

Berry glanced up in the rear view mirror. “It’s backwards writing to you. Look at it in your side mirror.”

Frank turned and looked in his mirror. “Oh, no. She must be running out of gas. What the hell we gonna do now?”

Berry pulled into the left lane and slowed down to allow the hatchback to pass. “We’re going to push her.”

Frank’s eyes grew big. “At fifty miles an hour?”

“No, fifty-five. We need a five-mile-an-hour margin of safety.”

“What happens when we run out of gas?”

Berry looked over at his partner. “Ka-boom,” he said, flatly.

Frank picked up the microphone and switched to the P.A. speaker to explain the plan to the driver of the hatchback.

Alice felt the gentle thump as the front bumper of the patrol car contacted the rear of the hatchback. She took the car out of gear and switched the engine off and then quickly switched to the “accessory” position to keep the steering wheel from locking. Alice breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the speedometer continue to register fifty-five miles an hour.

“Why’d you turn off the engine, Mom?” asked Sissy.

“We’ve got to save what little gas we have left, honey.”

“Why? Do you have an idea?”

“Yes, darling. I have an idea.” She gave her daughter a reassuring smile. Inside, she wanted to scream.

She realized it wasn’t much of a plan and the odds were against her. She knew they would be passing the beach area in a few minutes. She planned to turn off and drive the car into the ocean on the slim hope the bomb and triggering mechanism would fail in the salt water before it detonated. She realized the speed would drop quickly to zero when they hit the water and it was more likely that the bomb would work or, worse still, they might drown. Still, the plan was the best she could come up with at the moment.

When the beaches appeared off to the left, she restarted the engine and raced it as she slowly let off the clutch. A wave of her hand and the patrol car began to back away. She was on her own.

“Brace yourselves, kids,” she said as she slowed to fifty-two and turned off at the exit ramp. The ramp veered sharply to the right and the car skidded sideways into the curb. Two wheels jumped the curb and the car ran over a thin metal pole that marked the ramp for snow plows during the winter months. Alice jammed the accelerator to the floor and fought the steering wheel. Suddenly, steam appeared from under the hood. The overtemp warning light flickered and then shone bright red. The pole had punctured the radiator.

As the car left the ramp, it regained the highway leading straight to the beach. The hatchback became airborne briefly as it leaped a small mound separating the road from the beach. The rear hatch suddenly popped open as they came down on the beach. Black smoke began to mix with the steam coming from under the hood. Still, Alice held the gas pedal to the floor.

“Yippee!” yelled Joel.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice spotted an answer to her silent prayers. She cut the steering wheel sharply to the right. The car slid sideways in the soft sand and began to slow. Still, the wheels were spinning at a furious rate and the speedometer was reading eighty even though they were only moving at about forty miles an hour.

She jerked the wheel suddenly to the left. The right rear tire struck a partially buried log and exploded. Then slowly the little hatchback began to climb the sand dune Alice had spotted earlier.

“Sissy, undo both your seat belts and get ready to jump!” screamed Alice over the roar of the dying engine.

As the driving wheels buried themselves in the soft sand of the dune, the car slowed to a stop. The smell of burning rubber filled the car as the tires spun wildly in the sand. The speedometer was indicating seventy and dropping rapidly.

“Get out!” yelled Alice. “Get your brother out of the car and run. Hurry!”

Sissy reached across her brother and pushed at the passenger door. Sand piled up outside prevented it from opening.

“Go out the rear hatch,” yelled Alice as she pushed harder on the gas pedal and lifted Joel over the back of the front seat. The speedometer read sixty. The engine began to miss and sputter.

“Mommy, Mommy, come on!” shouted Joel, half turning as Sissy pulled him away from the smoking vehicle.

Alice pushed at the driver’s door with all her strength. Slowly, she forced it open. She could see the patrol car sitting farther up the beach obviously stuck. The two policemen were running toward her. She glanced at the speedometer. Fifty-three. They wouldn’t reach her in time.

Quickly, she picked her purse up off the floor and wedged it between the gas and brake pedals, then carefully removed her foot from the accelerator. The speedometer had dropped to fifty-one.

She jumped from the car and tumbled down the side of the dune.

The force of the explosion sent a huge plume of sand skyward. A large fireball appeared from the center of the cloud of sand and raced upward. Alice covered herself as smoldering pieces of the hatchback landed around her.

When the blast had subsided, Alice struggled wearily to her feet and staggered over to Sissy and Joel. She dropped to her knees and took them both in her arms. “You guys all right?”

“Wow!” responded Joel.

“We’re fine, Mom,” said Sissy.

“Are we still going to Mr. Happyland?” asked Joel.

Alice laughed. “No way, hotshot. Today you guys are all mine.” And she hugged them a little harder.