“He’s in shock,” Wendy said, letting the pistol rest on her lap and turned the dash lights down to a very low dim.
“His nose didn’t look red,” Jo Ann noted.
“Think of shock as an injury to the mind,” Wendy explained, gripping the steering wheel with her left hand and dropping her right to the pistol. “He didn’t look sick, but he’s seen the world he knew die. He may look awake, but his mind is asleep, kind of.”
Leaning forward between the front seats, Sally looked at the speedometer staying at thirty. “Can’t we go faster?” she asked in a soft voice.
“The faster we go, the more noise the car makes; just moving the air and noise from the tires on the road,” Wendy explained. “When we get to our bigger roads I’ll speed up some, but a car going sixty can be heard from a long way off.”
“Where did you learn this stuff from?” Sally gasped in wonder.
“Arthur,” Wendy grinned. “He found out when he was younger that he could hear cops or security driving toward him if they drove fast, even if they turned off their lights and sirens. But if they drove slow at forty, he couldn’t hear them until they were right on top of him.”
“Did he steal from people?” Jo Ann asked as the GPS told them to turn right ahead.
“Not the way you’re thinking. Arthur broke into corporate warehouses and even government buildings,” Wendy answered. “Even when he was little, Arthur didn’t like the way the little guys were treated.”
“He was like Robin Hood,” Jo Ann said cheerfully.
Making the turn, Wendy laughed. “No, he didn’t give to the poor, baby. Most of the times, he broke in just to break in.”
“Didn’t his parents get mad at him?” Sally asked and then let out a gasp as a man ran out of a house, waving his arms in the air.
Wendy just gripped the Glock and pressed the accelerator, passing the man’s yard long before he’d made the road. “Sorry,” Jo Ann mumbled. “He just ran out.”
“Baby, I saw him at the same time,” Wendy said, slowing back down and glancing back in the mirror to see the man was stopped in the middle of the road, still waving his arms over his head.
“Sally, Arthur never knew his parents,” Wendy said, looking ahead.
“He was adopted?” Jo Ann asked with her eyes scanning to their front.
“No, Arthur lived in foster homes his entire life. Nobody ever adopted him,” Wendy sighed. “When our son was born, I finally tracked down his birth record. His mom died two years after he was born from a drug overdose. The father wasn’t listed on the birth certificate.”
“That’s sad,” Sally mumbled as she glanced behind them.
“Yes, it is, but it taught Arthur independence,” Wendy said.
With the full moon and clear sky, the twins looked around in amazement. “Could you always do this?” Jo Ann asked. “Move around without lights?”
Laughing, “Yes, baby, even on cloudy nights you can see, just not as far,” Wendy said. “I wouldn’t be driving this fast if it was cloudy.”
Wendy slowed at seeing a wreck in the intersection ahead and steered to the side. Even at twenty miles an hour, the twins held on as Wendy weaved around the wreck and heard the tires squeal a little. After they rounded the wreck, “Person at the house,” Jo Ann called out. Everyone turned and saw a woman walk out of a house and look at them, clearly shocked to see a car rolling down the road without lights.
With Wendy accelerating back up to thirty, Sally turned around to keep watch on the woman. “She’s just staying there and holding a bunch of stuff in her hands,” Sally reported.
“People to the left,” Jo Ann called out and Wendy jerked her eyes over and saw several people next to a neighborhood grocery store. “I think one has a gun.”
“Get down,” Wendy said, hitting the window button and her window rolled down as she aimed the pistol across her body and out the window. Knowing it would be near impossible for her to hit the group, Wendy just wanted to be able to shoot back.
The group turned and saw the Tahoe just as they were even with the store. Only fifty yards away for a split second, Wendy could tell all were armed. None raised their weapons as Wendy drove past, never speeding up. Lowering the pistol, Wendy set it in her lap and rolled the window up. “You can get back up,” she told the twins.
“At least they didn’t shoot,” Jo Ann said in a quivering voice.
Feeling the adrenaline leaving her system, Wendy held up her right hand and saw a slight tremble. “Yes, that is good news,” Wendy admitted. “Jo Ann, open the center console and give me one of those small bottles.”
The young cop couple hadn’t had food, but they’d had flats of small energy drinks. “Can I have one?” Jo Ann asked, taking the top off the small bottle.
Taking the bottle, “One,” Wendy said and then drained the bottle. Cringing at the aftertaste, “Sally, you can have one if you want,” Wendy coughed and tossed the empty bottle in Jo Ann’s floorboard.
“It’s not that bad,” Jo Ann noted after draining her bottle.
When the GPS announced left turn ahead, Wendy noticed the houses along the road had been replaced with businesses. Guiding the Tahoe into the opposing lane, Wendy passed a bus that had hit a delivery truck. “Shit,” Wendy mumbled, seeing abandoned cars in the road ahead.
Taking her foot off the accelerator, Wendy left the pistol in her lap as she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Slowing to fifteen, Wendy weaved through the stalled cars and then tapped the brakes, seeing the packed intersection ahead where they had to turn.
With a quick glance
