The engine sparked and turned over like it was coming off the showroom floor. I pushed the shifter into first and tried to ease out of the mud. The car rocked forward, slipped then fell back into its original rut. I tried again but the tires spun in place, digging farther into the soft terrain.

As much as I would have liked to stomp on the accelerator in frustration, I thought jamming more tree branches under the tires might offer a better result. I dug gunk out from the front of both back wheels. Water filled the holes as fast as I could pull away the slime but eventually I made enough room to force more sticks into place.

I coaxed the Healy to grab some wood so we could get out of there. Baby talk, promises, and finally begging were involved but nothing helped. The car was not cooperating. The tires spun in my madness, mocking me with a whining laugh.

I lifted my foot from the gas pedal and listened to the slow turn of the tires in first gear. More sound than strain came from the rear axle. It dawned on me the transmission was set so low the engine would stall when the least bit of resistance was applied by solid ground.

I crawled over the trunk lid and wedged myself between the rock face and the rear of the car. My shoes sunk ankle deep in silt. Water ran down the flat surface behind me, settling between my belt and skin.

The chrome wire bumper was the best place for a firm grip. I stooped and positioned my back against the rock face. Lifting, I pushed the tires out of the dip. They rolled comfortably back. I lifted and pushed again. They rolled back again.

Adding a little misplaced passion this time, I lifted and pressed my entire body into the Healy. The wheels caught the branches and jumped forward, pulling me face first into the soft mud. The force jerked me out of my shoes.

When I looked up, the Jensen Healy had bumped over the ditch on its way to the far side of the road and the ravine beyond. As the tires hit the slick clay on the flat surface of the traffic lane, the car slid slightly sideways but continued its doomed path. Dammit! I had to stop that car.

I felt myself come off the starting blocks on hands and knees but in truth I was only digging trenches where I lay. I couldn’t get unstuck. How did that car get so much traction when I couldn’t? It took a few seconds to right myself and reach the road. I got there in time to see the hood dip down toward the valley below. The bumper was still within reach. I grabbed it to stall the car’s momentum but the damned thing dragged me with it. I finally let go and lay in the road watching the car disappear into the abyss.

Surviving Prague Excerpt 6

The Hollow Man    |     The Hollow Man Series, International Espionage​

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