IIIUP IN THE CAB, I HAD three bucket seats across. All with racing webbing that would auto-cinch up tight if anything really rocked my world. The middle one was for Fido. And he wore a special rig that was Kevlar with internal inflatable that allowed him to lounge most of the trip, but would make him into a tethered bouncing ball if anything happened.
I could drive from either side, but stuck to the left to make the guards happy. The right-hand seat was my dummy. Them numskull “Tolerance” protesters would often target him to get some “collateral damage.” Of course, he was mostly armor inside, and full of spare parts in between those layers. Cause some fruit-loop guard would try to jab him every now and then to make sure I wasn’t sneaking someone in or out. Then he’d get one of those sever
