The Shaking

Chapter Twenty Five

Sidcup. 14.11.

The moment Ryan Buckland spotted the car he knew it meant trouble. It must have been the way the glossy raven black, boxy, high performance hatchback with the notice me but don't look at me opaque window glass squatted out of place among the stopped line of middle-class estates and Chelsea tractors; or how an endless string of rapid monotonous beats thudded from the vehicle, overpowering the crystalline notes of a classical piano concerto wafting from another car stereo he passed by as he drew nearer to it.

While most of the other stuck motorists had turned off their engines and sat quietly waiting, the ugly car's motor continued to idle restlessly; the sound booming out through a ridiculously large exhaust pipe. It only confirmed Ryan's hunch that both the car and its occupants were best given a wide berth. Unconsciously he drifted away from the edge of the road closer to the other side of the pavement as it widened and joined a large grassy community play area.

He walked past the brutish little car, but had only taken a few steps onward when he heard its engine rev menacingly with a metallic harshness. Buckland knew better than to look back, for to do so was to admit his intimidation and encourage more of the same, so continuing to gaze straight ahead as well as maintaining his stride, he kept on. But what he heard next couldn't be ignored; along with a deep throated burbling there was the scuffing of low profile alloy wheels and plastic side skirts grating against the curb; one-two - three-four Ryan counted, the impatient driver had bumped his vehicle off the road. Buckland heard a triumphant tyranosaurian roar and snapped his head around in time to see the car launch itself at him with a carnivorous snarl.

Ryan understood from where he was placed there was no hope of finding sanctuary in among the traffic jam; he'd never reach it in time. Instead he leapt out of the vehicle's way into the park, the hot hatch just missing him as it sped past. Unfortunately the driver wasn't finished with his sport yet; he slammed on his brakes, turned sharply around, and aimed the car directly at Buckland, the spinning wheels kicking up divots of turf like a dog scratching at a lawn as it accelerated. What was up with this dickhead? thought Ryan as he dodged the charge.

Buckland felt like a matador trying to fend off a raging bull, but unlike in a plaza de toros he had no helpers to wear down the beast. Instead he faced alone a psychopathic driver who had decided to vent all of their frustrations by attempting to run him down. Whatever the reason Ryan had been chosen as the man's prey - he was the fastest moving thing on the street, or seemed to have a sense of purpose which everyone else lacked; the fact he wore a rucksack, or was merely there - the lunatic behind the wheel clearly demonstrated their murderous intent toward him.

Bellowing loudly, and with a turbo dump valve sneeze as it changed gear the street rod drove again at Buckland, now stranded in the middle of the park. Ryan managed to dash out of the car's way at the last moment, but this time the margin was far narrower: If he couldn't get out of its way and into a place where he couldn't be followed soon, the chances were his luck would run out.

Buckland considered where he might flee to the next time he had the chance, but the sadistic driver was expert at drifting the hatchback around quickly and turning it at him again before Ryan could think of running to safety. There seemed to be no nearby park benches, trees, or bushes which Buckland might use for shelter, and a fenced off childrens' playground was unfeasibly far away. None of the other drivers looking on who were in a position to do so made any move to interpose their cars to aid him, but if only he could somehow work his way closer to the road he'd be all right...

As if reading Ryan's mind the madman turned at him again, gouging more tracks in the grass and cutting off his most likely avenue of escape. It was almost as if the nutter was playing with Buckland as a cat does with a mouse. With a throaty rasping the hatchback came at him again. Ryan swerved out of its way, but this time as he did so the passenger side door was flung open, clipping him painfully on the side of his leg near the knee as the car passed.