A bullet smacks into the passenger door and another ricochets loudly off the hardened steel plates that protect the headrest and back of your driving seat. The sound makes you flinch involuntarily, but you suppress your fear and force yourself to concentrate. You take your foot off the gas as you turn the ignition switch, despite an almost overwhelming urge to stamp the pedal straight through the floor. Too much gas would flood the engine for sure, leaving you stranded, a sitting duck for those Mavericks who are now beginning to close in on all sides.
Your restraint pays off; the engine roars into life and within seconds you are accelerating away from the barricade, your eyes glued firmly on the convoy’s tail lights. A few poorly aimed bullets chase your escape but you soon catch up with the school bus and pass beyond the range of the Mavericks’ guns.