With the umbrella, it took several trips leaping over puddles to get his things in the car. When all was ready, he started the engine, turned on the wipers, and cleared away the windshield's mist with the side of his hand. He then backed out of the driveway, waved to the policeman sitting in his cruiser, apparently watching the house, and accelerated down the street.
He had to use his hand to clear the windshield mist again after only a short distance. With one eye on the road, he used the other to locate the defrost button. Once the defrost got up to speed, the mist problem abated. To help, Jack cracked the driver's-side window.
As Jack wound his way through the suburban streets, traffic gradually increased. Due to the dark, low cloud cover, many cars had their lights on. When he got to the entrance to the Massachusetts Turnpike, where he had to wait for a traffic light, he was reminded it was rush hour. Ahead, the toll road was swarming with racing autos, buses, and trucks creating a swirling, vaporous mist. Jack girded himself to enter the fray as he waited for the light to turn green. He was aware he was not a particularly good driver, especially since he rarely drove after moving to New York City a decade ago. Jack much preferred his beloved mountain bike, even though most people thought it dangerous to bike in city traffic.
The next thing Jack knew, something crashed into his car's rear, causing his head to bounce off his headrest. The moment he had recovered enough, he twisted in his seat to look out the water-streaked back window. He couldn't see much other than a large black vehicle pressed up against the rear of his. It was at this point that Jack realized his car was moving forward despite his foot continuing to compress the brake pedal.
Twisting back around to face forward, Jack's heart skipped a beat. He was being pushed through the red light! Outside, he could hear the horrid grating noise of his locked wheels against the pebble-strewn macadam as well as the growl of the powerful engine propelling him. The next thing Jack was aware of was a headlight bearing down on him from his left and a car horn blaring a dire warning. Then came a harrowing, screeching sound of rubber against pavement, followed by the glaring headlights being diverted ahead.
Reflexively Jack's eyes closed, expecting an impact into his car's left side. When it came, it was more of a brush than a crash, and Jack became aware of the water-blurred image of a car pressed sideways against his Hyundai alongside his driver's-side door. There was a scraping of metal against metal.
Jack lifted his foot from the brake, thinking the brake was not working and needed to be pumped. The second he did so, his car shot forward toward the press of racing cars on the turnpike. Jack jammed his foot back down on the brake pedal. He could feel his wheels lock and the grating sound of his tires against the road's surface reoccurred, but his forward speed did not lessen. Jack glanced behind him again. The large black car was ineluctably pushing him toward the dangerous toll road that was less than fifty feet away. Just before spinning his head around to face forward yet again, he caught sight of the pushing car's hood ornament. Although the fleeting image was indistinct in the fog and drizzle, Jack saw that it consisted of two crescent-shaped sprigs bordering a coat of arms. He instantly made the association. It was the hood ornament of a Cadillac, and in Jack's mind, a black Cadillac meant Franco until proven otherwise.
Since the brake was useless against the Cadillac's excessive horsepower, Jack released it and stomped on the accelerator instead. The Accent responded nimbly. There was another agonizing sound of metal against metal, and with a perceptible pop, the Hyundai managed to detach itself from its bullying fellow automobile.
Gripping the steering wheel in desperation, Jack merged into the four lanes of speeding highway traffic like he'd never merged before. At the last second, he actually closed his eyes, since there was no shoulder on that part of the road, so there was no choice but to join the stream of cars in the far right-hand lane. Although the Boston drivers had seemed overly aggressive to Jack during his previous driving experiences, he had to give them credit for being alert and for having rapid reflexes. Despite a cacophony of horn blowing and screeching tires, Jack's car managed to merge into the traffic. When he blinked his eyes open, he found himself compressed between two vehicles with no more than six feet in front and seemingly inches behind. Unfortunately, the car behind was an intimidating Hummer, and it stayed where it was, suggesting the driver was venomously angry.
Jack tried to adjust his speed exactly equal to the car in front, despite feeling it was much too fast for the weather. He felt he had little choice. He was reluctant to slow down for fear the Hummer would ram him in a similar fashion as the black Cadillac had. Meanwhile, he frantically tried to search for the Cadillac in his side and rearview mirrors, but it wasn't easy. It required taking his eyes off the car in front, which was nothing but a hazy blur despite the windshield wipers working at top speed. Jack didn't see the Cadillac, but he did catch glimpses of the Hummer driver alternately shaking his fist and giving him the finger when he sensed Jack was looking in his direction.
The need to concentrate on driving was not the only handicap in the search for his vehicular assailant. Whirling eddies of fog and water vapor were whipped up into a frenzy by the rushing vehicles, particularly the trucks whose eighteen wheels, each almost the size of Jack's car, flailed against the wet pavement, sending billows of mist into the air around the edges of their mud flaps.
Suddenly, to Jack's right a short stretch of shoulder appeared as a turnout for disabled vehicles. He had to make a snap decision, since the length of the turnout was not long, and at the speed his car and the others were traveling, the opportunity would soon be lost. Impulsively, Jack veered to the right out of the line of traffic, jammed on the brake, then fought against the car's tendency to skid first one way, then the other.
With great relief, Jack was able to bring the car to a stop, but he didn't get a moment to rest. In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of the black Cadillac pulling out of the lines of traffic exactly as he had.
Jack sucked in a chestful of air, gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, and stomped the accelerator to the floor. The acceleration wasn't neck-snapping, but it was still impressive. Ahead, the fenced end of the pullout rapidly loomed, forcing Jack again to merge abruptly into the traffic. This time it wasn't blind, but it caused the same fury in the driver behind. Yet with the Cadillac obviously still in pursuit, Jack didn't concern himself. In fact, there was a good side. The man continued to express his anger by riding Jack's tail. Under normal circumstances, Jack would have considered such a situation dangerous and irritating. But now it meant that there was no room for the Cadillac, which would have been far worse than a mere irate driver.
Jack knew that coming ahead some miles down the road was his turnoff that surprisingly forked from the far left lane. Not too far beyond that were tollbooths marking the end of the toll road. Jack tried to reason which was better. The tollbooths meant staff and maybe even State Troopers, which was good, but it also meant long lines, which was bad. Although David Thomas had relieved Franco of his gun, Jack knew the man undoubtedly had access to others. If Franco was crazy enough to ram him in an attempt to push him out into traffic, Jack felt he'd have little qualms about shooting at him. The exit road had less staff and no troopers, which was bad, but no lines, particularly in two fast lanes, which was good.
As Jack was weighing these possibilities, he'd been vaguely aware that some distance beyond the buildings spanning the toll road, a true shoulder appeared. He'd not thought much about it since he had no intention of pulling out of the traffic for a second time. What he'd not considered was the Cadillac using the breakdown lane to catch up.