“No one's following us, just chill out,” said an anxious and nervous passenger.
“I don't know,” said Jeremy, “It never hurts to be careful.”
“I still think you're crazy,” said Mack, the 34 year old fireman, his hoodie well over his head, teeth bared against the wind.
“Well,” said Jeremy, stung to rage by his words, “what would you do if your wife was captured by a gang??!!”
“Well, I still think you're crazy there,” said Mack, a bit chagrined, “but I was referring to your just wearing a long-sleeve shirt in this weather.”
“It don't bother me,” Jeremy muttered, glancing in his rear view again. Jeremy was starting to get nervous, his pulse quickening and his heart thundering in his chest. The exit was close approaching, and after that it was a few mere miles to that dreaded parking lot, where his entire life would change, one way or the other. He floored it past a VW bug that was traveling far too slow for his expectations, and motored up the off ramp, and stopped impatiently at the stoplight, waiting for the green signal. At the flash of that beloved color, Jeremy floored a right turn and hit 50 before he had gone 100 yards. He knew the parking lot was just past the Safeway, past the last stoplight before the railroad.
Copyright 2011 David R.