Chapter 11
I SLAMMED the cruiser’s rear passenger side door shut behind me half a second before Alice stomped on the accelerator, throwing me against the thinly padded vinyl backseat as we rocketed down Lakeshore. The open windows carried the smells of moss from the alien sludge filling Lake Huron, easing the stink of rotten blood that still threatened to gag me.
I rolled in the seat, and grabbed the metal grille partitioning the cruiser for balance. Beside me, the flamethrower rattled in its mount. A line from the Department policy manual flashed through my mind: vehicles are to be equipped for flamethrowers or for passengers, but not both. It had seemed like a good idea, before, but after I’d adopted the girls I’d removed one of the flamethrowers to make room for a backseat passenger.
