Fighting back your fear, you try to ignore the sound of the engines and concentrate instead on finding a place where you can descend the steep bank and enter the river bed. Your determination pays off and you are able to get yourself and your roadster under cover before the clansmen are close enough to spot you. With bated breath you watch as the pack, fifty riders strong, roars along the highway. The sight of them passing raises your spirits a little, for at least there will now be fifty fewer to face when you reach San Angelo.
When the pack is nothing but a cloud of dust on the northern horizon, you start up your engine and head back onto the highway towards Broome.