The convoy leaves the sanctuary of Big Spring with its headlights blazing and its gas pedals pressed flat to the floor. The deafening motor noise rolls across the surrounding land like thunder, and the twisted auto wrecks that litter this section of Interstate 20 seem to flash past with ever-increasing speed as you accelerate your car into the slipstream of the school bus. Above, you see a smoky pinpoint of fire climb into the night sky, and then explode with a brilliant flash. It is a signal flare, and it has been launched by the startled group of Maverick gang lookouts, who are manning a barricade less than half a mile ahead.
The barricade comprises a line of old cars and other debris that has been dragged into a haphazard line across the freeway. As the tow truck screams towards its centre, you can just hear the crackle of automatic gunfire above the roar of the convoy’s engines. Then, with a grinding crash, the truck slams into the barricade and ploughs straight through without slowing. Torn and buckled sheets of rusty metal are spun skywards, together with the bodies of those Mavericks too slow to jump clear. Still in line, the convoy follows Pecos Pete through the ragged gap carved by his truck. As you approach it, you grit your teeth and tighten your grip on the steering wheel.
To your right you notice the steep embankment that borders this section of the freeway. An old panel truck is perched near the top of the slope, held there in defiance of gravity by blocks of concrete that are wedged in front of its wheels. Feverishly two Mavericks are trying to pull away these chocks and, as you reach the gap, they succeed. Your stomach churns as the panel truck comes careering down the embankment on a collision course with your car.
![[illustration]](42/ill16.png)
If you wish to try to avoid the runaway panel truck by swerving to the left, turn to 209.
If you wish to brake heavily in an attempt to avoid a collision, turn to 118.
If you decide to accelerate in an attempt to get out of its path, turn to 72.