71
SWARM
Interstate 95, just south of Savannah, Georgia.
The team left Brunswick and raced up interstate 95, heading north; the direction of Washington, DC. Jana gunned the engine but even with the siren blaring on the black Ford Excursion, she had a difficult time maintaining a high rate of speed due to the number of cars on the freeway. As another car failed to yield, she again applied her brakes. “Move dammit!” she yelled.
“Jana,” Cade said from the backseat, “calm down. We don’t even know if we’re headed in the right direction, much less what we’re looking for.”
“Any car-transport truck.” Then she uttered, “Not on my watch.”
“What?”
“I said not on my watch. This will not happen on my watch. I’m going to stop this son of a b***h just like I stopped his asshole brother.”
The engi
