18
“SHUT THE f**k UP!” the man screamed. “NOW!”
The car swerved dangerously on the loose gravel at the edge of the road, and he fought to save the vehicle from sliding into a perilous sideways skid. He was traveling way above the speed he would normally consider safe, and the steering wheel bucked, and spun unpredictably in his hands. If he lost it, the car was going to flip. Reluctantly, he eased off the accelerator, and slowed a little, gaining a little more control of the speeding vehicle.
He glanced into the rear vision mirror. Miranda was kneeling in the rear of the vehicle, staring out the back window at the house, fading and then reappearing through a thick cloud of dust thrown up behind the car, and getting smaller in size the further away from it the car traveled.
The man wipe
