When Weatherby’s older sister is kidnapped, he and Mort are forced into a deadly automobile race along the Pacific Coast highway – and their competitor is the Devil himself.

The street was empty, except for three cars, and they were all in front of me. I decided to do something about that. The black Cadillac had kept its lead, with Vette Veaux’s car close behind, and Hadley Stullworth III’s expensive racer ahead of me at the back. So the rich kid would be the first to go.

I came up behind him fast, not giving him any time to notice my arrival. I saw him turn to look at me, and saw the reflection of my face in his mirrored sunglasses. I saw that I was smiling. Then I slammed the bumper of the Packard into the back of his car. Metal squealed as I bumped him again, ramming him forward into his steering wheel. He was starting to panic and I eased off the pedal for a few seconds, just enough to let terror take hold, and then I hit him again.

“Dear god!” Stullworth cried, louder than the roar of our engines. A curve in the road was coming up. There would be sharp cliff on one side and a sheer drop and ocean on the other. That’s when I made my move. I slammed into his bumper and then twisted the wheel, screaming alongside Stullworth and shoving him out of the way. I turned to stare at him in the seconds before the front of his car crumpled into the cliff wall. He was terrified and I gave him a quick nod.

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