8
Stone Mountain
As soon as I was off the main roads, I forced myself to drive at a less conspicuous speed. I knew the back roads through this primarily residential area very well. Because the traffic was so light and because I was making lots of turns, I was now able to be certain that no one was behind us. We went through Avondale and popped out onto I-285 at Indian Creek. A quick dogleg over and we were on 78 West, headed away from town.
Only ten minutes had elapsed, but we were already outside of the city and putting even more distance behind us at a good clip.
We had been extremely tense, riding along in silence, each lost in thought. Suddenly Jessica began laughing. And I mean, really laughing. Uncontrollably.
“Um, just out of curiosity,” I began tentatively, “what exactly is so
