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Authors: Mark Williams
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the vehicle. At the last possible second, the bike swerved to the left to avoid the tanker, knocking over some traffic cones in another central turning junction, but otherwise returning back to the correct side of the carriageway unscathed.
The oil tanker did not do so well out of the confrontation.
The driver swerved into the slow lane, applying the brakes hard to avoid the car in front of him. This sent the tanker into a sliding skid, from which it might have recovered, had it not been hit by a lorry travelling behind. The extra force of this impact sent the tanker careering over onto the wheels of its right-hand side towards the aforementioned turning junction in the centre of the carriageway, which it took at an angle of forty-five degrees before falling over.
It swung around on its side with a howl of screeching metal and came to a juddering halt, completely blocking the road ahead of us. Petrol poured from a gash in the tanker like blood from a wound. The dazed driver climbed down from his cab and staggered over to the side of the road, where he attempted to flag me down.
My instinctive response was to stop, convey him a safe distance from the stricken tanker and await the arrival of the emergency services. But I also knew that this would mean the sure and certain end of our quest. I therefore did the only other thing I could think of. I increased my speed and drove onto the hard shoulder, pushing the car as fast as it could go.
âLucas! Have you lost your mind?â said Sir Kay.
âSire, Lucas has gone mad! Tell him to stop the car!â said Sir Perceval.
But the Master had slipped into a catatonic state, his head lolling on his shoulder.
âI suggest you find something to hold on to,â I said. âI fancy this will be somewhat unorthodox.â
I edged the car onto the embankment at the side of the road, which got progressively steeper the closer we got to the tanker. Realising that I was not about to stop for him, or indeed his vehicle, the driver ran for the safety of the surrounding fields. Between the cab of the tanker and the side of the road there was a gap exactly half the width of the Jaguar. I took the last few metres of the embankment at top speed.
The car swung up onto its right side. The wheels left the ground, and we shot up and clear through the gap. The weight of the Grail on the roof turned us upside down in mid-air, and the momentum of the jump flipped us back round again in a perfect side roll. We landed upright on the road, on the other side of the tanker, just as its engine caught fire.
The world exploded.
The Jaguar was engulfed by the fireball. I kept my foot pressed firmly to the floor. The sheer force of the blast carried us through the inferno and out the other side. Naturally, as soon as we were safely clear of the blast zone, I reduced my speed to the legal limit.
In the rear view mirror I could see Sir Kay and Sir Perceval staring at each other, open mouthed. They quickly let go of each otherâs hands and transferred their astonished gazes to the back of my head.
âHow did you⦠did we⦠justâ¦?â said Sir Kay.
âNice driving, Lucas. I think,â said Sir Perceval.
The Master remained in his reverie, head slumped forwards. The magazine on his lap slid to the floor with a gentle flop.
â
Once again the bike party waited for us, this time in the car park of a fast food outlet just outside Carmarthen. Sir Lancelot had regained control of the vehicle. A black eye, thick lip and sullen silence from Sir Gawain testified to the struggle. To my enormous relief Sir Pellinore was in their custody, having been recovered from the caravan when it stopped at a roundabout, the owners continuing on their way blissfully unaware of the entire affair. A battalion of emergency vehicles sped past us towards the horizon, where black smoke besmirched the clear blue sky.
âHow bad?â said Sir Lancelot.
âThere was an incident,
The oil tanker did not do so well out of the confrontation.
The driver swerved into the slow lane, applying the brakes hard to avoid the car in front of him. This sent the tanker into a sliding skid, from which it might have recovered, had it not been hit by a lorry travelling behind. The extra force of this impact sent the tanker careering over onto the wheels of its right-hand side towards the aforementioned turning junction in the centre of the carriageway, which it took at an angle of forty-five degrees before falling over.
It swung around on its side with a howl of screeching metal and came to a juddering halt, completely blocking the road ahead of us. Petrol poured from a gash in the tanker like blood from a wound. The dazed driver climbed down from his cab and staggered over to the side of the road, where he attempted to flag me down.
My instinctive response was to stop, convey him a safe distance from the stricken tanker and await the arrival of the emergency services. But I also knew that this would mean the sure and certain end of our quest. I therefore did the only other thing I could think of. I increased my speed and drove onto the hard shoulder, pushing the car as fast as it could go.
âLucas! Have you lost your mind?â said Sir Kay.
âSire, Lucas has gone mad! Tell him to stop the car!â said Sir Perceval.
But the Master had slipped into a catatonic state, his head lolling on his shoulder.
âI suggest you find something to hold on to,â I said. âI fancy this will be somewhat unorthodox.â
I edged the car onto the embankment at the side of the road, which got progressively steeper the closer we got to the tanker. Realising that I was not about to stop for him, or indeed his vehicle, the driver ran for the safety of the surrounding fields. Between the cab of the tanker and the side of the road there was a gap exactly half the width of the Jaguar. I took the last few metres of the embankment at top speed.
The car swung up onto its right side. The wheels left the ground, and we shot up and clear through the gap. The weight of the Grail on the roof turned us upside down in mid-air, and the momentum of the jump flipped us back round again in a perfect side roll. We landed upright on the road, on the other side of the tanker, just as its engine caught fire.
The world exploded.
The Jaguar was engulfed by the fireball. I kept my foot pressed firmly to the floor. The sheer force of the blast carried us through the inferno and out the other side. Naturally, as soon as we were safely clear of the blast zone, I reduced my speed to the legal limit.
In the rear view mirror I could see Sir Kay and Sir Perceval staring at each other, open mouthed. They quickly let go of each otherâs hands and transferred their astonished gazes to the back of my head.
âHow did you⦠did we⦠justâ¦?â said Sir Kay.
âNice driving, Lucas. I think,â said Sir Perceval.
The Master remained in his reverie, head slumped forwards. The magazine on his lap slid to the floor with a gentle flop.
â
Once again the bike party waited for us, this time in the car park of a fast food outlet just outside Carmarthen. Sir Lancelot had regained control of the vehicle. A black eye, thick lip and sullen silence from Sir Gawain testified to the struggle. To my enormous relief Sir Pellinore was in their custody, having been recovered from the caravan when it stopped at a roundabout, the owners continuing on their way blissfully unaware of the entire affair. A battalion of emergency vehicles sped past us towards the horizon, where black smoke besmirched the clear blue sky.
âHow bad?â said Sir Lancelot.
âThere was an incident,
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