[stone angels, part II]

[morelikeasponge]

"Look out!"

It's a good thing Peter hasn't met Niki yet, because if he had, the door handle would be pulp. Luckily, his strength is all his own, and the only damage is to his whitening knuckles.

Comments

[gonna_live]

"Shut up I'm tryin' to concentrate -- "

At least Kaylee's hands are at ten and two.

She's leaning over the wheel. Her head does not graze the ceiling when the car hits the curb, and jumps.

[morelikeasponge]

Peter's does, but the reddening imprint on his forehead fades with his cursing.

"Can you go any faster?" he says, still clutching his head with one hand.

[gonna_live]

"Can't you hear that sound?"

Probably not, because it's not strictly a sound; Kaylee's feeling the transmission protest through the accelerator, and she doesn't like what she's feeling.

Nonetheless, she floors it, and the car lurches ahead.

Behind them are three cars.

The closest one has a fox-tail dangling from the rearview mirror; the brim of the driver's hat hides his face.

"Pull the gorram map, tell me how to get out of town -- "

[morelikeasponge]

Peter scrabbles frantically at the glove compartment, and the map flutters to the floor as it springs open.
NISSAN VERSA
He lurches foward after it; his voice is muffled. "I'm trying --"
NISSAN VERSA
"Okay, I think -- we want to head south -- which way are we heading right now?" His head pops up again, and his eyes lock on the side view mirror. "Kaylee --"

[gonna_live]

"What?"

The pavement is uneven, and the car nearly sails into the air; Kaylee runs a red light. The cop sitting at the other end of the intersection doesn't do anything.

[morelikeasponge]

He doesn't do anything about the three cars behind them, either.

Peter's voice is tight, and pitched high. "They're gaining."

[gonna_live]

"I hate cars -- "

The internal combustion engine is not all it's cracked up to be.

Kaylee takes a hard left; the car fishtails, corrects, and zooms down Highway 73.

[morelikeasponge]

White knuckles. White, white knuckles.

Peter's not a big fan of cars right now either.

"They're not gaining anymore," he manages.

[gonna_live]

"Good." Kaylee takes a second to squint at a sign as they fly past it. "Toll -- there's a ruttin' toll?"

She slaps his shoulder with the back of her hand, fast and hard. "Two of...those. Two. Quick."

[morelikeasponge]

Peter doesn't flinch.

Claude prepared him for something, at least.

"Who cares about tolls, we gotta --" There are gates. "Two?"

The pleasant jingling is a little incongruous, all things considered.

[gonna_live]

"Currency! Coin! Whatever the hell it is you use right now!"

They're slowing down. Kaylee adjusts the rearview mirror frantically.

[morelikeasponge]

Peter reaches across her, and a handful of quarters arcs gracefully through the air.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Drrrrrrrrrdadada.

(The last one wobbles down in a spiral.)

He looks at her. "Go!"

[gonna_live]

Kaylee's turned around -- the three cars are inching up closer, and the adrenaline is starting to transition into straight-on terror --

Go, Peter says; Kaylee floors it again.

Behind them, the two ends of the bridge start to lift and separate.

Kaylee is too busy trying not to hit things to see it. She's also too busy to see the sign welcoming them to Pennsylvania.

[morelikeasponge]

Peter's not too busy.

"Kaylee!" he says again.

Relief is just as overwhelming as panic, and it carries with it about as much coherency.

[gonna_live]

"What?" she manages, through gritted teeth. She's still trying not to hit things, and hasn't much --

"...wait, is that...the bridge? And they're -- "

[morelikeasponge]

"They're stuck," he crows. "The drawbridge."

Behind them, the cars have skidded to a frustrated halt. A wild dog watches curiously from the thickets of forest behind the tolls.

"I think -- I think we're safe!"