Feb 11, 2011 06:40
Jack Your Firm's Name Here's car was not the sort of car that needed a lot of maintenance. Whether that was due to its nature or Jack's nature or something else entirely was up for debate, but either way, Jack and Prefect had not needed to stop for anything for a very long time. They'd rolled on, stopping because they felt like it and never worrying about the potential for blowing a tire, or running out of petrol, or burning out the engine for lack of water. Now? Well, it was the dead of the night, they were rolling along a road lined with huge fields of corn in the wide-open spaces of ideal farm land, and the car was suddenly making a funny noise.
Jack's face was a set frown and he seemed to be more concentrated than he'd been for quite a while. Prefect had been asleep when the noise started, and he wasn't sure if the other salesman had woken up or not. This was painful; he had to get somewhere. There was a crossroads not too far. They could make it. His hands gripped the steering wheel as if it were the last thing holding him up, his jaws were clenched tight, tendons were standing out like steel cables under the skin of his neck and he was ever so pale. Every few minutes the car clunked and whined and shuddered some more and the demon's face tightened up just that extra little bit.