The Aftermath

09

First he called Charlie, his attorney, as soon as he was on Highway 52. After he repeated his story about Jim Stewart paying him a visit at the poker tables, Tom asked her for her thoughts.

"And you are sure it was him."

"Positive."

"That's not good, but you say he didn't do anything except play a few hands of cards and leave the casino." Charlie emphasized.

"Right."

"I don't know if that is enough to get a restraining order on him or not. I'll check to see if he was one of the people arrested at the courthouse or in front of your house on Friday. That would give us enough for sure." Charlie offered.

Tom sighed, "Not sure a restraining order is going to keep him from putting a bullet in me."

"Tom, if you really feel this guy is threatening your life, then you do what is necessary to survive and we'll worry about the legalities of it later." Charlie scolded.

"So, carry a gun and hire a guard?" He asked with a smile.

Charlie wasn't smiling, "Yes Tom. Exactly that. As your lawyer I advise you that it is very difficult to help you once you are dead."

"I'll take that into consideration counselor." Tom agreed.

"You do that, and I'll check into Jim Stewart and see what we can do."

"Thanks, talk to you soon." Tom clicked off the cell phone.

He drove in silence for a few miles and then decided to call Samantha, just to hear her voice. As he was reaching to click on the phone, a blue and white Ford F150 with large tires roared past him, and then cut him off, so close Tom reacted by hitting the breaks. Then the truck hit its breaks.

In the milliseconds that followed, Tom saw the break-lights flash on and white smoke blast up from the rear tires of the F150. A heartbeat later he was pressing his own breaks to the floor and jacking the wheel to the right, toward the shoulder of the highway. The scream from breaking tires filled the air and the smoke poured out in clouds. Tom's frontend missed the rear bumper of the truck by inches as his car skidded toward the shoulder and off the road. Then his car smashed into the vertical canyon wall, and flipped up. The airbag blew and Tom's upper body slammed into the cushion. The car came down off the vertical wall and landed flat on the shoulder. Steam poured out of the front of the car. Tom couldn't see around him very well, and the seatbelt and airbag had him pinned. The thought raced across his mind, this would be the perfect time to walk up and put a few bullets into me.

With that thought he snapped off the seatbelt, and threw his body to the right as hard as he could to escape the airbag. Just as he did the windshield blew apart and the airbag popped to the sound of two large caliber gun shots fired close together. Tom pushed with his feet to slide him further from the driver's side door. Tires screeched from breaking tires on the highway. Horns blared. There was the sound of an engine roaring to life and rushing away. Tom opened the passenger side door and crawled out of the car as fast as he could. Now he was between the vertical canyon wall and the side of his car. Still not the best place to be. He crab-walked to the back of the car and looked around at the scene.

Cars were already backing up on the freeway. Two were at a dead stop in the right lane, the drivers running over to him. He waved them back, but one of them yelled, "He's gone! Took off! Are you alright?"

Tom stood and nodded his head, "Fine, fine." He looked around. There was no sign of the truck. Nice ambush, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Tom walked back to the passenger side of his car and grabbed his cell phone off the dash.