The cat meows even louder.

"What does the cat want now?"

She shrugs.

Suddenly the pickup rammed them from behind. The Mustang jolted forward with a metallic crunching noise. Swearing, Alex spun the wheel, careering over the yellow line. Its engine roaring, the pickup pulled up beside them on the passengers side. The woman had taken the wheel; the man was holding the rifle, pointing it right at them.

She stares at the other car in surprise.

"Get down!" he shouted, swerving. He shoved her toward the floor just as gunfire sounded and the window burst into thousands of fragments of glass.

She stays under the little area where there's a ledge and then space (Idk what it's called).

(Ummm...the space beneath the dashboard? Idk either)

"Stay down," ordered Alexs voice. He took his gun from the waistband of his jeans, flicking the safety off. But before he could fire back, tires squealed and the pickup had pulled in front of them. There was the popping sound of gunfire again.

"Jesus!" He ducked low in his seat as the windshield exploded.

Safety glass flew all around them; a sudden rush of wind howled past. The Mustang veered wildly, but somehow Alex managed to keep control. The sound of rifle fire became more distant, and finally stopped altogether. Alex pulled onto the shoulder, did a screeching three-point turn, and headed back in the direction they'd just come from, wind whistling through the car.

She stays down.

A few minutes later, the car turned. There was a rough bumping, and then they jolted to a stop.