Chapter 17
The road that Clive had chosen to take to the beach was narrow and not much traveled at this hour. He jammed the throttle down hard. Fields raced by beyond a deep ditch. Plowed land, and long straight rows of green. Presently, from a ramshackle little farmhouse up ahead, an ancient truck wheezed onto the highway with a load of celery.
Clive drove his foot down on the brake and his hand on the horn ring. The old truck didn't move any faster, finishing a left turn. Clive swore and pulled back on the emergency.
He wasn't doing more than twenty-five when the front wheel came off. The car slewed off into the ditch, churning mud with its rear wheels. The celery truck trundled away without stopping. Clive killed his motor and sat still with his eyes shut, gripping the wheel.
Somebo
