The Black Studebaker

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The Black Studebaker...

     was still a hundred yards away. The stolen bread truck was gaining, but not fast enough. It was a good thing the river was on the other side of town. Maybe I would get lucky and we could find some traffic. However, it was not very likely at this time of night.

As we crawled in and out of the glow of street lights, I couldn't help but question what would happen next. What would I do when I caught up? I had no gun, no backup. I was driving a stolen truck, that I needed to keep in one piece. And the Tailor wasn't very likely to want to chat...

I needed him to stop.

We cut a line straight through the city. Sure enough, he was headed south, in the direction of Sawtooth Drive. If he got there with me still in this blasted bread truck, I would have very little chance of sneaking up unnoticed.

We were almost out of town now and I was starting to sweat it. He HAD to stop.

I had barely gained any ground when red lights started to flash in front of me. It wasn't the Studebaker, which was further ahead. No, I was getting caught on the wrong side of a train crossing.

I watched the tail lights pull further away through the gaps between the rail cars. Luckily, it wasn't a long train, I could see the end in the distance. However, the damage had been done. There was no way to close the gap now.

The final car, a rusty old coal bin, rattled by. As I started over the train tracks, I thought I could make out another small flashing red light. I hammered the gas pedal! The lumbering bread truck shuddered.

Several moments later I coasted the truck to a stop at a road side convenience store. Sitting there lifeless, beneath the pale lights, was a single car...

The black Studebaker...

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