"We're being followed."

"What?" said Larry. "Get out."

"Serious," called Burt, from the back. "Given the random way you've been driving, I'm pretty sure we have a tail."

"I don't see anything," said D.J., hunched down in the seat to get a better look in the side mirror of the van.

"Well, I guess there's only one sure way to test it," said Larry.

"How's that?" asked D.J.

Larry wrenched the wheel all the way to the right, and the van crossed two lanes of traffic amid a cacophony of honks and screeches. At the intersection, Larry kept right on turning, a hard angle that made the van shudder. Burt and Turk were both thrown into the left wall as Larry straightened the wheel. "What am I looking for?" Larry shouted to the back.

"Pieces of my fucking skull," bellowed Turk, rubbing his head. "Who do you think you are, Speed Racer?"

"A dark blue Mitsubishi Gallant," said Burt as he peeled himself off the back wall.

Larry held his breath and watched his side mirror. Sure enough, a few seconds later, a blue Gallant swung into view and slid into the lane.

"Shit," said Larry. Followed, he marveled. By who? Why? Suddenly, his brain was filled with full comprehension of his situation. They were being followed. Someone knew they were in town. He felt the tendrils of a vast conspiracy brush against his neck. Goosebumps blossomed on his arms, and adrenaline shot into his bloodstream. It felt like he just kissed a girl.

"Dammit, Larry, are you trying to kill us?" said D.J.

"Deej, we've got company," he said. "We really could be in real trouble. Now, are you going to help me, or scream like a little girl?"

D.J. bristled. "Fuck you, Croft."

"Good," said Larry. "Find the map for the streets of Tempe." He glanced at the passing street sign. "We're on Farmer," he said.

"Looking for it," muttered D.J., flipping pages back and forth.

"We're by the railroad tracks."

"Ah, gotcha. Near the university."

"Really?" said Larry. "Let's try and lose this fucker on campus," he said.

D.J. started to say, that's not a good idea, Larry, but it was too late. The van made a sharp right, swinging wide with the wheels shrieking in protest, onto University Drive. They crossed the railroad tracks at forty miles an hour, which brought the van up and down with a jarring impact. The mild Saturday morning Tempe traffic braked sharply to give the van the right of way.

"Larry, warn me next time before you make a turn," said D.J. "I can't navigate if you won't let me!"

"Left," said Larry, as he jerked the wheel. He misjudged the angle and almost barreled into the car sitting at the light, waiting to cross the intersection.

"That's not what I meant!" D.J. howled.

"Dammit, think ahead of me, Deej. Be my Force. Burt, he still back there?"

"Yeah, and he's coming up fast, too." Burt had his head down and his arms braced on either side of the walls.

Turk opted to lean forward, in order to actually see the death that no doubt waited to embrace him around every screaming corner that Larry made. Lord, please don't let me die a virgin, Turk chanted to himself, over and over.

"Okay, thinking ahead," said D.J. "Uh, go right, up there."

"That's more like it," said Larry. He slowed down to turn, due to the narrow streets lined with cars. "This is bullshit," he said. "This is Saturday. Why is everyone still here?"

"Hey, don't knock it," said D.J. "Just stay in the middle and he can't get along side of us."

"Good point," Larry conceded.

"Okay, let's try to fake him out. Right again."

"Gotcha," said Larry, pleased that they were working as a team.

"Still there," said Burt from the back.

"Okay, up here, take a left, and then the next left," said D.J. He was holding the map upside down.

"Right," said Larry. Everyone leaned the opposite direction as Larry took the corner without braking. The van rocked and groaned in protest.

"He's gone," said Burt. "I think you lost him."

"Go on and take the left," said D.J.

Larry slowed down, turned, and swore. Waiting at the end of the block was the blue Gallant. He'd taken the side street and was waiting for them.

"Well, that was fruitful," said Turk.

"Shut up, Pop," said Larry.

"You want to navigate?" said D.J.

"If I can sit up in the front," said Turk. He had to stop speaking then, because Larry floored the accelerator and the van surged ahead.

This street that serviced the campus was mostly empty and the traffic on it was slow. By a lucky coincidence, Larry managed to pass the Gallant going north as a small string of cars were going south. "Deej, gimme something," he said.

"Okay," said D.J., tracing the street frantically with his finger. "Not left," he muttered. "That'll take us back to the numbered blocks.

"I'm running out of street, here," said Larry.

"Uh, okay, at the street, turn right," said D.J. with a confidence he didn't really feel.

They could see the stadium up ahead. "We're not going there, are we?" Larry asked.

"No," D.J. said. "But this road takes us sort of back the other way."

"Sort of?" asked Turk, who had made it back up to the front.

"Hang on," said Larry. Another hard right, made more difficult by the angle of the street and the cars that didn't have a stop sign. Palm trees lined the meridian, a visual marker that one was on the outer edge of the college. The van forced its way into the flow of traffic, with the other motorists slamming on their brakes at the van's sudden appearance, thus giving Larry the window he needed.

"Okay, follow the trees," said D.J. "I think I know where we are."

"Burt?" yelled Larry.

"Still coming," said Burt, his eyes fixed intently on the snarl of traffic in their wake. He felt like a tail gunner in a B-17.

"Okay, well, fuck him, then," said Larry. He stepped on the gas and actually started passing the slower moving cars, dodging and weaving through the traffic, one hand on the horn, the other on the steering wheel. The other drivers were too startled by the battered black van to do more than slow down, give Larry the lane, and flip him off as an afterthought.

"You're scaring the shit out of me, but it's working," said Burt.

"Right!" said D.J. happily.

Larry obligingly swung the van ninety degrees, turning down one of the small one-way streets that fed into campus.

"Oh shit! No, that's not what I meant!" said D.J.

"You said 'right'!"

"I was agreeing with Burt!" said D.J.

"Get us out of here, now," growled Larry. "This street is a dead-end."

"Is it?" said D.J, his head down, as he looked at the clipboard. "No, you can turn left up ahead."

Larry glanced, and sure enough, there was a small parking lot. He yanked the wheel around and drove the van through, popping his back wheel on the curb.

"No, not here!" said D.J. in a shrill voice. "You're off the map!"

"I'm in a parking lot," said Larry. He wrenched the van to the left again, so they were traveling back in the direction they came from, one street over. Larry slapped the clipboard out of D.J.'s hands. "Forget it," he said, "I'm going solo." Up ahead, a road veered to the right, and Larry took it, threading the parked cars on either side like a professional.

"Oh shit," said D.J. He watched as the outside mirror tagged the hood of a parked car, causing its car alarm to go off. The mirror bent back against the door.

"Straighten that out, Deej," Larry said. He stayed left, and kept driving at breakneck speed until he had merged back up with a main, tree-lined road. "Okay, we're on Apache."

Burt called out. "I really think you lost him this time."

"Goddammit!" screamed Turk, pointing. They flew past an access road, only catching a glimpse of the blue Gallant as it approached the intersection.

"Never mind," sighed Burt, as the pursuer slipped back into place behind them.

"I told you that road turned further up ahead," said D.J. He dove for the clipboard. "I'm navigating again."

Up ahead, the road curved to the right. Larry poured on the speed, his tires squealing in protest, as he took the bend, and then without warning, threw the van into a sideways skid, onto another access road, and then spun out and drove into the entrance to the large parking lot by some oddly-shaped memorial auditorium. The road to the parking lot ran in the opposite direction of the bend, and they all saw the blue Gallant whiz by. Larry caught a fleeting glimpse of the driver, his expression goggle-eyed, as he saw the van traveling away from him in the opposite direction, separated by manicured grounds.

Larry threaded the access roads and ran around the architectural nightmare, with Turk and D.J. screaming at him all the while to stop and go back. "There's not a connecting road through the campus, dumb-ass!"

"I don't want a connecting road," Larry said, as the van hit another curb and grazed a parked car. "I want...waitaminute!"

The one way street made an abrupt right, with more trees in the middle of the street to lead the way.

"He's still back here," said Burt.

"Working on it," said Larry. Up ahead, he spotted a left turn and a vehicle waiting to cross. Larry tapped his brakes, slamming the guys forward. The other car started across. Larry floored it, the van fishtailing sideways, missing the front grille of the open-mouthed girl's Mazda by inches. Larry braked, then accelerated again, and the van shot around the car, and popped into the left-hand turn that was nearly hidden for the lines of trees.

They were in front of a small agricultural building, in a small parking lot. But parked sideways, against the lines, was a large pickup truck and horse trailer. Larry said, "Deej, crack the window, give me a visual," even as he pulled up on the side closest to the building, with the trailer between the van and the road.

"I can't see anything," said D.J.

"Behind us," Larry said.

D.J. stuck his head out and caught a flash of the Gallant turning the corner. "Here he comes," said Turk. "We gonna jump out and take him?"

"Nope," said Larry, putting the van in reverse. He leaned over in his seat and stared through the regular spaces in the empty trailer. The Gallant was cruising on the other side of the street, a blip of blue between the regularly spaced palm trees. Larry slowly rolled backward, to keep as much of the trailer between him and the Gallant as he could. Everyone held their breath. The Gallant slowed, then sped up, made a right turn, and was out of sight.