There was the sensation of something cold and slimy on Sam's face. It might have been his own vomit and snot, except for the fact that it was cold. As it was, his face was covered in vile goop which slowly slid down his skin in chunky clumps. It was gross.

But Sam failed to notice, because he was busy staring at the stump of Dr Jenny's neck. Instead of red and pink and blood, all he saw was a clear jelly oozing around sparking wires and bits of steel. There was nothing organic about that stump, and even Sam, in his state of shocked terror, could see that.

He forgot to breathe. Everything around him faded away. His mind packed up its bags and went on vacation without him. Sam remained entirely unaware of his surroundings until something grabbed him and heaved him upwards.

"Come on, man, move!"

Sam found himself dragged across pavement before getting stuffed into the backseat of a car, headfirst. The door shut, hitting his butt with enough force to shove him further in. More doors slammed, the engine revved, and the car catapulted backwards with an angry squeal of the tires.

Sam bounced off the seats, and an involuntary grunt was pushed out of his lungs. He slumped into the narrow space on the floor, his arms pinned against his sides. One of his legs hung up on the back seat. He felt like he was half pretzal, half sardine in a can. 

Like this, he couldn't see anything other than the opposite window and door. The outside world streaked past the window, all glorious cement pillars and yellow lights on concrete walls flashing by. It was disorienting.

 The car jerked to a stop, and Sam smacked his head against the door behind him. He didn't even have time to wince before the driver shifted gears and spun the car around.

Tires screeched, and the car leapt forwards. It accelerated so fast that Sam was pressed against the rear seats by sheer force alone. They hit a bump – Sam's teeth snapped together as he felt the impact right up his spine – but rather than hit the brakes, the driver pinned the gas. 

If they went any faster, they'd probably take off. Sam clutched at the seats as best as he could. He was bounced around so much that hanging onto things became near impossible. If his stomach wasn't already empty, then he would have puked again.

"Left!" A man's voice shouted from the passenger seat.

Sam squinted, for that voice sounded familiar. For a brief moment, his misery lessened. Was it-?

He almost didn't dare to hope.

The car swung left so sharply that two of its wheels briefly lifted off the ground. Something scraped the side of the car, an awful grating of metal against metal. Sam never saw what it was though, for the world outside the window abruptly darkened. Lights bursting out all along the wall. 

Sam thought he caught a glimpse of blue sparks skittering across the ceiling, but that could have just been the stars floating in his vision. He'd knocked his head about enough times. 

"Left again!"

Another sharp turn had Sam gritting his teeth. He'd had enough with this horrible position. If there was anytime to sit properly in a car and wear a seatbelt, this was it! 

As soon as the car leveled out, he struggled to free one arm. A bit more wriggling and huffing, and he managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. From this vantage point, he finally could spot the familiar bulk of a man in the passenger seat.

Sam exclaimed, "Chip!"

The Chip Commando glanced back at Sam, eyes flashing, and snapped, "Stay down!"

Stay down? Sam grimaced. Couldn't he at least sit on the seat properly? That way he could do up his seatbelt, which would be a lot safer considering that the driver of the car thought he was on a rollercoaster.

"But the seatbelt-!" Sam protested.

Chip reached out, placed his heavy hand on Sam's head, and pushed him down. "For crying out loud, man - stay down!"

Tears welled in Sam's eyes. His head hurt even more now. Actually, everything hurt. And if he wasn't allowed to wear a seatbelt, then he was pretty sure he'd more than hurt - he'd be broken.

"She's coming," the driver tersely said. He spun the wheel, whipping the car into another nauseating spin. "I'm turning around. Get ready to shoot."

Shoot? Shoot what? Sam clutched the back of the driver's seat, bracing himself against the harsh movements of the car. He tried to move up, just a little, so he could see into the front seats. 

A quick glimpse told him that the driver was the Tea Commando. Sam thought it was a real pity that the man's driving skills were nowhere as calm and steady as his personality. He wished that Tea would drive as delicately as he would, well, drink tea.  

"Ah!" Sam's eyes widened, for Chip pulled out a huge handgun. The Commando braced himself against the dash with his right hand, pushed his frame back into his seat, and aimed the gun straight ahead with his left. 

"Ready," he grunted.

Tea slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt once more. And through the windshield, Sam caught a glimpse of silky golden hair. It moved like it was in a dream, swaying gently over the shoulders of a white lab coat. Goldspun Silk stood poised before them, hands at her sides, chin lifted, her beautiful lips curved up at the ends. 

The gun boomed and the windshield blew apart. The dream-like vision vanished in an instant.

Sam recoiled, hands slapping over his ringing ears, while Tea shifted gears. In the next instant, they flew backwards at terrifying speeds. Tea twisted in his seat, bracing himself with an arm against Chip's seat so he could see where they were going.

Through the remnants of the shattered windshield, Sam could make out a woman in pink scrubs charging after them, her legs and arms pistoning back and forth like a machine. Her silky blond hair and white lab coat flew behind her.

It was the single most terrifying thing Sam had ever seen in his life.

The gun fired again, a roar of thunder that made Sam quake in his own skin. Even so, he couldn't take his eyes away from the horrible scene that unfolded before his eyes. Goldspun Silk's head blew apart just like Dr Jenny's, leaving nothing but a puff of sparks behind. 

Sam didn't know what kind of gun Chip had, but it was powerful enough to blast open a skull with a single round. It might as well have been a cannon.

And yet, the lady kept coming. The fact that she no longer had a head didn't even matter. Even scarier, she was gaining on them.

Sam realized he'd been wrong. This was the most terrifying thing he'd ever witnessed. There was something really special about seeing a headless body chasing after a car, after all. 

Sam expressed his horror with all the grace he could muster: he opened his mouth and a wordless shriek tore free. It was lost in a burst of gunfire.

The next two bullets tore through her legs and she immediately fell. Yet she wasn't done, for she used her sharp fingernails to claw her way after them like a scuttling bug. Her torso bumped and scraped across the cement, while her headless neck swayed back and forth with each movement.

Like this, she wasn't able to keep up with them. The car rapidly left her behind.

It didn't make Sam feel better. He'd been wrong yet again. That last image of her was so much worse. He'd never be able to sleep again. 

Chip pulled his gun back. "That'll slow her down."

"Good." Tea spun the wheel. The car followed, doing a complete 180 before Tea guided it onto the nearest exit ramp. "Where's the other one?"

It was if the universe had been waiting for that particular question to be asked. For not even a second later, the answer came with all the force of a 10-tonne anvil.

With a loud bang, the car's roof abruptly dented inwards. Sam shouted in alarm, pressing himself against the side of the car. His eyes glued themselves to the roof, because he could hear something moving around up there. 

Scraping, screeching, the roof groaning as something clanged around. A new dent punched down before his very eyes.

"Ah," Chip said. "There she is."

He raised his gun again, and almost casually fired another three shots into the roof.

The stench of gunpowder seared Sam's nose. He didn't even had time to cover his ears, and now they rang so loudly, he couldn't hear anything else. Daylight poked through the three new holes. Glorious, wonderful daylight.

Whatever had been up there wasn't there any longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gun lower, saw Chip's mouth move as if the man was saying something. But Sam only heard the high pitched ring. He could also hear the blood throbbing in his ears, pulsing with the rapid beat of his heart.

A wheeze shuddered out of Sam's longs. His chest heaved as he gazed up at those three little glimmers of hope.  He half lay, half sat against the door, feeling about as boneless as a squid.

That was when something dark appeared in the door's window opposite him. Sam dropped his eyes from the bits of daylight to the window. Something told him he really, really didn't want to look. But it was like a magnet drawing his attention, and he couldn't help it.

Black Bob's face hovered there, perfectly centered in the frame of the window. It seemed impossible, for the car was roaring down some street at full speed. Yet there she was anyway.

Slowly, her head swiveled. Her empty black eyes stared right at him. Her mouth moved, and even though there was no way Sam could hear what she said, he somehow knew exactly what sound she was making.

"Heh. Heh. Heh."

She ripped the entire car door off its hinges. Metal wrenched and tore, and then it was gone. Sam saw the street through the new hole in the car, saw signs, trees, and buildings whipping past.  And then there was Black Bob, running so fast that her legs her legs blurred in a grotesque parody of the roadrunner's.

She bent down, reached into the car –

Sam yanked his knees up to chin, curling into a ball. Snot dripped from his nose, and he was shaking and yelling, cheeks wet, chest hurting – the whole world began to dim around the edges save for the singular focus of that awful, clawed hand just millimeters from his foot.

A hole appeared in her chest. Then her hand was lying on the floor by Sam, while the rest of her fell away from the car. Chip rolled down his window and leaned out. His gun spat thunder a few more times. Then he settled back in his seat.

He sighed. "Well, I guess that settles that."

Sam didn't move an inch. He stared at that hand like it was the only thing in existence. He stared at it so hard that everything else just faded. His brain struggled to process what had just happened, but it was failing so bad that he could only sit  blankly.

"You okay there, Sam?" Chip glanced at the backseat. Or what was left of the backseat, anyway. He was just in time to see Sam's eyes roll back into his head.