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Trent seemed discomfited. Something may be up ahead, waiting for us. The car
we saw back at the Burger
King, maybe.
They drove on for several uneventful minutes. The road was dark in both
directions.
Are you sure your Earth magic is all it s cracked up to be? Incarnadine
asked.
Trent gave his head a quick shake. Can t figure it.
Like the sudden deadly blooming of a nuclear fireball, the crest of the hill
behind them lit up in a blaze of light.
Something big topped the rise and rolled down the hill, approaching with
unbelievable speed.
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I take it back, Incarnadine said. Your lookout spell isn t fooling.
Interesting, Trent observed. What do you make of it?
Not your average tractor-semitrailer.
The thing behind them was twice as big as any conventional vehicle, its array
of headlights like a blinding galaxy of suns. The windshield and windows
glowed strangely blue, and yellow flames shot out of twin exhaust stacks at
either side of the cab. Swooping down the hill at breakneck speed, the
spectral truck howled like a psychotic beast chained in the fires of Hell.
Trent floored the accelerator and wheeled the Mercedes around a bend to the
right as the road continued down
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mountain. The speedometer crept past 80 mph, edging into the red.
Got your seat belt on? Trent asked casually.
When did they start putting these things in automobiles?
Trent didn t answer as he mashed the accelerator into the floorboard. The
thing behind them was still gaining.
We ll never outrun it, Incarnadine said.
You re right. I wonder if he means to crowd us off the road, or simply run
over us.
It looks quite capable of either tactic.
Inky?
Yes, Trent?
I think we ve had it.
The monster vehicle closed steadily. Trent began swerving between lanes, and
the demonic semi followed suit.
There was very little room for maneuvering; the right shoulder was narrow,
edging an almost vertical wall of blasted rock. An aluminum barrier ran
between the roadways. There was no emergency lane and no place to pull off.
Ghastly blue light flooded the interior of the Mercedes as the truck drew
close. An ear-splitting horn blast rent the night, and gouts of flame belched
from the twin exhaust stacks. The truck s contoured windshield looked like a
phantasmal roaming eye, radiating otherworldly light. The truck tried to pass,
and Trent blocked its path, eliciting another angry blast of the demonic horn.
Incarnadine thought his ears would burst. The truck swerved right, and
Trent dodged back into the right lane.
Watch it, Incarnadine said.
I can t let it get abreast of us.
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The truck stopped weaving and crept closer to the rear of the Mercedes.
You can t let it Incarnadine began to say.
The truck bumped into the rear of the Mercedes and backed off; then, engine
yowling, it sprang forward and slammed into the car, its huge burnished grille
looking like a shark s mouth, huge and hungry and slavering for the kill.
Another impact came, and the Mercedes began to fishtail. Trent countersteered
and straightened out. Again, the demon semi lunged forward, but this time
Trent whipped extra power out of the car s already overtaxed engine and pulled
away.
Steer for me, Inky! Trent shouted. I have to have my arms free!
Incarnadine leaned over and grabbed the wheel with both hands. The car swerved
just as he took control, and he fought to bring it back into line. At his left
ear he heard Trent chanting a complex and mostly unintelligible incantation.
Trent s fingers worked off to either side, moving in precise patterns.
The road underwent a sudden and quite unexplainable transformation. It changed
color, from murky, half-seen gray to bright yellow. It also widened
considerably, somehow acquiring a multicolored canopy like the roof of a
tunnel. Streamers of color flowed past, along with geometrical shapes and
strange designs.
Trent laughed triumphantly, taking back the steering wheel. Shades of Stanley
Kubrick!
Who?
Incarnadine craned his neck and looked out the rear window. The truck was
still tailing but had dropped back. As he watched, it continued to fall
behind. Wherever the Mercedes was going, the truck either could not or did not
want to follow.
Incarnadine looked ahead and whistled his admiration. Neat trick, little
brother. What do you call this?
Trent flipped a palm over. A shortcut. The tricky part is getting back to
normal reality.
Are we ready to do that yet?
Not quite. Enjoy the show.
Incarnadine sat back and watched the play of light, color, and pattern.
Brilliant shapes raced out at them from an incandescent night, flowing past
with ever-increasing speed. There was no longer a road now, just a long tunnel
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luminescence. At its distant vanishing point, somewhere out near infinity
where all the glowing lines converged, a brilliant starburst of light
coalesced. It grew and increased in intensity. Incarnadine got the impression
that it was getting closer.
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See that light?
Yes, Incarnadine said. What is it?
I ve never driven long enough to find out. Want to?
I would, under other circumstances.
Right. Where s the demonic eighteen-wheeler?
Incarnadine looked. Nowhere in sight.
Okay, hang on.
The tunnel of light faded gradually until at last the mundane turnpike again
rolled under the wheels of the
Mercedes. The terrain had flattened out somewhat. Clearly they were on a
different section of the road.
Good job, Trent. I liked your shortcut.
And here s the exit. State Route 711, right?
I m not sure I like the numerological implications.
Trent turned off the highway, gradually slowing on the long, curving exit
ramp. The toll booths lay up ahead, on the other side of the overpass.
There it is, Trent said, looking to the left.
The monster semi rolled by on the highway beneath, screeching its frustration.
Incarnadine watched it come out the other side of the underpass and go
hurtling down the road, a shiny black juggernaut trimmed in glistening chrome.
It rolled about a thousand feet down the turnpike before vanishing in a burst
of crimson flame.
Twenty-one
Keep Family Residence
THE ROOM WAS full of antique furniture representative of many periods. On the
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