Main Entry: meth·am·phet·amine
Pronunciation: "me-tham-'fe-t&-"mEn, -th&m-, -m&n
Function: noun
: an amine C₁₀H₁₅N used medically in the form of its crystalline hydrochloride and often used illicitly as a stimulant.

I'M NOT QUITE SURE WHO'S CHASING US. It's all a blur. Actually I'm not quite sure if we're even being followed. I have yet to see any Shadow People. But according to the deranged man in the driver's seat, they're right behind us. Meanwhile traffic falls away to both sides. Terrified pedestrians scatter from crosswalks half-seconds before they would've otherwise been plowed. And as we near the university campus, the city of Los Angeles streaks by in a blur. If we were moving any faster we'd probably become airborne.

Anything's possible in a Ferrari F-25O.

Once again I'm screaming to slow down until the tendons in my throat feel they'll rip apart. But no response. The man in the driver's seat is no longer human. Like a maddened demon, he grunts and shrieks, whipping the steering wheel left, then right, then left again. It's all a blur.

The convertible top down, every time we whip onto another street I grip the dashboard, fighting the titanic forces threatening to launch me to the sky. We disregard yet another stoplight and it's easy for me to reach a decision now—this is the last time I'm ever going to let someone else drive my car. Or let myself be talked into allowing music I've never heard before blasted over the stereo. What we need right now is music to calm the savage beast. Maybe a string quartet. Not a song's heavy metal rock lyrics that repeatedly shriek "By Demons be Driven."

This has been a learning experience.

An ear-piercing screech of rubber and we've come to a stop.

"I've never seen so many fucking cops!" the deranged man shouts as I peel myself from the dashboard. The engine at an idle, I can also hear Joel stuffed next to me by the door, whining, whimpering, near tears. I shield the sunlight with my hands and gaze across the intersection. We're there—the University of California, Los Angeles.

The deranged man howls suddenly and starts grinding his teeth. "Which way, which way, which way!" he sputters anxiously. I point straight ahead to one of the student parking lots. The engine explodes, the wheels scream, and we launch across the intersection.

I attempt to wave my student pass at campus security, but the wind whips it out of my hand. A few moments later we swerve around a group of students and then over the sidewalk and onto some sloping grass. I cringe as the car bottoms out. Grass and dirt are thrown up as the rear wheels continue to spin. But the effort is useless.

Reflexes seize control. I reach over and rip the keys out of the ignition. The car dies. Joel scurries from the side of the seat and over the top of me. He leaps from the car, falling to his hands and knees. He's sputtering and whispering and I think he's praying his thanks for deliverance.

A small crowd of students is beginning to form under some trees at what I imagine they think is a safe distance. If they only knew. . .My car usually draws a few stares, but at this moment I'm pretty sure it's the sight of the excited man in the driver's seat next to me as his jaws move violently up and down and side to side, his teeth grinding together with his rabid animal-like grunts and growls.

"Get out of the shade! They're in the fucking shade!"

I ignore his mad ravings and glance at my watch. Oh shit! My final's due in class in twelve minutes.