​     Alison had already been to the car repair to pick up her Volvo. Now both of Abby's daughters had their own car to drive.

​     Skip sat next to Abby in her car while he gobbled down his Quad. More than anything else, he just wanted it out of his hands.

     "Don't eat that so fast," Abby said. "You'll choke."

​     "I'm not afraid of choking. I'm afraid of everything else."

​     Abby went to pull out of the parking lot, but, just as she went to enter traffic, a truck rear-ended a sedan in the street right in front of her.

     CRASH!

     Both vehicles spun into the lanes of traffic going the other way.

     SCREECH! Someone hit their brakes.

     BAM!  A Ford SUV slammed into the truck.

     We're not getting out that way, Abby thought.

     She led the three cars out a second exit, then drove away from the arterial. She planned to stick to the side streets all the way home.

     No such luck.

     They got about a mile before they came upon a blocked intersection. All three of the drivers had their phones out and stayed on a conference line. They wanted to stay in direct contact.

​     "Back up, turn around," Abby said needlessly because, in fact, that's exactly what Alison and Cathy were in the process of doing. 

​     Then, just like that, the other end of the street got blocked, too. Four cars got into a bit of a fender bender, but, rather than just get out of their cars to discuss the matter, they all got out and ran for their lives, leaving their cars behind. Two of the cars still had their motor's running.

     Home was a good ten miles away. It'd take them hours to walk there. Not really an option.

​     Everyone started laying on their horns, Cathy included.

​     Abby heard gunshots.

     "This is turning out to be...to be...something," she said and, as she did, a bolt of panic ran along her spine.  

​                                                         CONTINUE