Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

The Jeep fishtailed wildly to the left and swayed like it was going to fall onto its side as it plowed toward the entrance of Macy’s. The hearse continued speeding toward them, nearly sideswiping them as Tom saw Hoops whiz past the Jeep They’d missed them by a coat of paint!

Tom slammed on the brakes just as the Jeep jumped the sidewalk and plowed directly toward Macy’s main entrance. It skidded backward into the door and smashed the plate glass with a huge jolt. Tom threw the gearshift into drive and floored it, flying back out over the curve and east on Thirty-fourth.

“Christ, that was close!” he gasped.

“No shit!” Erin said. “I can’t believe they just missed us!”

Tom looked in his rear view mirror and saw the hearse pull a U-turn and head toward them again.

“We’re not out of the woods, yet. Here they come!”

Tom tried to get his bearings as he flew down Thirty-fourth. What was the best way to lose these bastards? he thought, struggling to recall the streets of Manhattan. Heading back to the Lincoln Tunnel was out of the question-he needed more time to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. Should he keep heading east and see if he could shake them before he got to the FDR, then head back toward the Tunnel? Or should he cross over to Queens or Brooklyn and take a totally different route out of here?

“They’re gaining on us!” Erin shouted.

“I know-that hearse must have a goddamn 427 in it!”

“How can we lose them?”

“I’m thinking-I wish we had a gun so we could blow out one of their tires!” Tom blurted, feeling like an extra in a “B” movie.

“Maybe you should turn onto one of these streets,” Erin suggested.

“Nope, I don’t want to do that. We need to keep going as fast as we can; turning will just slow us down.”

Tom’s heart was in his mouth as he glanced in the mirror and saw that the hearse was no more than three or four car lengths behind them. The accelerator was all the way to the floor and he now regretted not getting a V-8 Cherokee instead of this doggy six-banger.

He had flown by Lexington Avenue and crossed Third Avenue when Tom realized that they were running out of road. There was Second then First Avenue before they dead-ended into the FDR. He wasn’t going to be able to lose these guys by any stretch of the imagination before then-he had to think of something else.

Suddenly he had an idea: The Queens Midtown Tunnel! It was coming up any time now and maybe, just maybe he could throw them off by taking the tunnel at the very last second…

Tom knew it was a gamble because he would lose precious seconds turning off for the Midtown Tunnel instead of continuing on to the FDR. But there was a good chance that these demented shits were assuming he would be taking the FDR-heading for Queens wouldn’t make any sense.

And that was exactly what he was banking on.

Tom flew through the intersection of Second Avenue and saw the sign for the Midtown Tunnel up ahead. Instead of applying his brakes to slow down for the access road and thereby give his pursuers a cue, he waited until he had almost past it, slammed the gearshift into second, turned the wheel hard to the left, jumped the curb and headed north on the access road.

Tom looked in the rearview mirror. The hearse had missed the turn! He heard the sound of the hearse’s tires squealing as he floored it and headed toward the ramp to the tunnel. Another turn and they were inside the pitch-dark underground passage.

“We lost them!” Erin exclaimed as she looked back.

“Yeah, but just for a moment. I’m sure they’ll be back on our tail in a flash. But at least we managed to put some distance between us.”

Tom glanced at the fuel gauge just as he saw the headlights coming at him in his rear view mirror. He was on empty!

“Shit, here they come again!” Erin cried.

“Yeah, and that’s just part of the bad news. I’m running on fumes.”

“Oh, no! When do you think we’ll run out?”

“It won’t be long, trust me. We’re never going to outrun them now-we’ll be at a dead stop any minute!”

“Oh, Tom, what are we going to do?”

“If we just had a weapon of some kind.”

Erin shouted, “They’re almost on us already! What are those sparks coming out of the side of their car?”

Tom looked in the mirror and saw intermittent sparks flying from the hearse. Apparently, they must have hit something when they turned around after he had eluded them. As the hearse drew closer, he saw that the chrome bumper of the old Caddy had somehow gotten smashed in and caused something, maybe the license plate, to drag along the pavement and create the sparks.

“Man, I’ll bet they’re pissed now! Hoops must not be too swift of a driver. Chappy will- Whoa, wait a second! I think I’ve got an idea!”

“What?”

“We have to hurry, though-they’re only a couple hundred feet away! Quick, Erin, climb back to the cargo compartment!”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you in a second-just go!”

“Okay!”

Erin whipped off her seat belt, turned around and bolted in between the seats to the back. She climbed over the backseat and into the cargo area.

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to release the rear window lock and you push it open. See that gas can sitting back there? Once you get the window open, unscrew the cap and chuck that gas can outside. Hurry!”

Tom pressed the rear window release button and heard a click.

“It’s unlocked!” Erin shouted.

“Push it open! Christ, hurry before they get any closer!” Tom cried.

Tom watched Erin in the rear view mirror as she pushed the window open, his ears popping from the sudden vacuum it created. He saw her hoist the gas can up and rest it on the edge of the tailgate, unscrew the cap then push the can out the window.

“Geronimo!”

“Hit the deck, Erin!” Tom shouted.

That second, there was a huge orange/red blast of light that completely illuminated the tunnel, followed by an ear-deafening explosion. Tom saw the hearse explode into flames and continue speeding toward the Jeep like a meteor gone wild.

“You all right?” he hollered back.

Erin’s head popped up over the back seat. “Wow, that was crazy! Shit, they’re still coming at us!”

Tom realized just then that he had lightened up his foot on the accelerator after the explosion so he floored it again. The ball of fire that was once a Cadillac hearse appeared to slow down as the Jeep sped quickly away from it.

“We did it!” Erin yelled.

“It sure looks that way,” Tom said. “Now I just hope we get to the end of this tunnel before we run out of gas.”

Erin began making her way up toward the front seat. The fireball was smaller now but still lit up the tunnel like a Christmas tree.

“Great job, kiddo!” Tom said, giving Erin a high-five as she sat back down in the passenger seat.

“Thanks-god, that was so exciting!”

“Yeah, a little too exciting for this guy! I think I left my heart about a mile back or so!” Tom declared.

“This was just like out of an action flick! What made you think of the gas can idea?”

Tom smiled dryly. “Seeing the fuel gauge on “E.” Then remembering that I had a couple of gallons back there in the can.”

“Cool-just like James Bond!”

“Well, I don’t’ know if I’d go that far,” Tom chuckled, impressed that Erin had apparently checked out a Bond movie or two.

“I see light up ahead!” the girl cried.

“Thank God-if we can just get out of this tunnel before we run out of gas, I’ll be forever grateful.”

In another moment they emerged into Queens and headed directly into a beautiful sunrise. Now on the Long Island Expressway, Tom sped past the tollbooths and got off on the first exit they came to.