I hooked a turn into the parking lot with the rent-a-car and slammed on the brakes, barely even skidding out as we came to a stop. GPS navigator said it would take sixteen minutes, I did it in ten. Shows what the fucking computers know. Maybe I went through someone’s yard a couple times to cut some street signs . . . it was an emergency!
Ain’t quite a motorcycle with two uzis and a chick in an American flag bikini on my lap, but at least I got to drive for once. Rented car with a nerdy black guy, a patrician with a stick up his ass, and a dead woman . . . I’ll take it!
As the car came to a stop, T-Bone gave a little scream—not for the first time—unbuckled himself hurriedly, and rolled his way out of the car as quickly as he could.
Welf followed, swaying to his feet and steadying himself with his stupid ass cane.
Only the dead woman seemed to be in the game, exiting like a perfect lady despite the man’s suit she wore.
I unclawed my fingers from the steering wheel, twisting the keys to turn off the hybrid engine. Didn’t use any electric cruising on that drive, no we did not! I kicked open my door and stepped outside.
There was a new dent on the fender.
Wonder what I hit?
“We’re still alive,” T-Bone wheezed to himself. “Thank God we’re still alive.”