Road Sage

Year 26: Dodging bullets was easy enough for Morgan. Karen was having a lot of trouble running in heels. He picked her up, threw her over his other shoulder, and proceeded to run at a faster speed. Getting to Michael's car, Karen fumbled with the keys and managed to open door as the gang was coming into earshot. Morgan quickly dumped Michael's body in the back and shouted, “Start the car!”

Karen got behind the wheel and said, “I can't!”

Manifesting a curved wall behind them, Morgan shouted back. “Why not?”

“This is a Ferrari. It has a stick.”

The sound of a bullet hitting the shield made Morgan thicken the wall. “I'm sure you can figure it out!”

“I don't know how!” she yelled back, she sounded frantic, verging on terrified.

Morgan took about a tenth of a second to think it over. “Get in the passenger seat!”

“What?”

“Don't freeze up now! I'm going to need you functional. Get in the passenger seat!”

Karen climbed frenetically over the center console. Morgan dropped hastily into the seat. He felt for the keys and turned the ignition.

“You're crazy!”

“If you can't get us out if here, I'm going to do so,” said Morgan evenly. “Now, warn me if anything is in our way.”

Morgan put his feet on the brake and clutch, switched to first, then put his right foot down on the gas while lifting the left off the clutch. The car ineleganlty lurched forward. When the tires hit asphalt, he pressed on the clutch, switched to second and tried to align the car straight with the road. Karen found herself yelling “Left!” and “Right!” spasmodically. The road itself wasn't very obliging as it snaked about in irregular S-curves, dips, and sudden right angles. The light dotting of trees weren't helping either. After about the seventh near miss and about several thousand dollars worth of body damage, Morgan asked, “Are they still following us?”

Karen risked a look behind. “I don't see them.”

“Okay, I'm going to stop and if I guide you, do you think you can drive this?”

“Okay, I'll try,” she said, still somewhat panicked.

Positions switched, Morgan explained the three pedals, and told her to clutch, brake, shift into first. After several more minutes of abuse, Michael finally revived. His first statement was, “What are you doing to the transmission?”

Karen turned around to look at him. “Oh, thank go-”

The car performed a slow motion French kiss with a guardrail. Michael sat up and said, “Okay, let me drive.”

Karen shook her head. “I don't think this car going anywhere.”

“It probably won't want to, but give me a shot.”

After another driver switch, Michael commented, “It looks like Morgan was driving this.”

“I was.”

“That would explain why we're going the wrong way.” Michael pulled a bootlegger reverse and shot the car back the way they came. Karen flew out of the back into Morgan's lap.

As she and Morgan extricated her from the odd position. “This is probably the wrong time to ask, but how do you know how to drive a car?”

Michael smiled and said, “Oh, I taught him. Lots of open space and the minds of teenagers.”

“But he's blind.”

“Should I bring up why you weren't driving from the start?” Morgan asked.

“I think I can guess,” Michael said. “You need to learn to handle the unexpected better, sexy.”

Karen's scream snapped both men's eyes back on the road. The gang was heading for them. Morgan slid open the sunroof. “I'm going to trust your driving now. Karen, stay down.”

Morgan could sense the incoming hostility while standing halfway out of the sunroof. His mind focused on the distance closing between the pack and the car. It needs to stop them, he thought, without damaging us. His mind flipped through possibilities as a short straightaway presented itself between the lead vehicles and their car. The sharp-pointed, flat-topped road spikes emerged almost too late. Michael pulled hard left too late. The opposition failed to respond at all. It takes some skill and experience to drive a car on two wheels. It takes luck to do so under pressure with oncoming traffic while under suppression fire from handguns. Michael apparently managed to meet the intersection of luck, experience, and skill while Morgan almost got his head clipped off. He sat down while hearing a sizeable multi-car pileup behind them. The car leveled out roughly.

“Okay, I'll aim for the back gate, do you have the key, Morgan?”

“I thought I gave you a copy.”

“Yes, that happens to be in my Mercedes... ah, hell.”

“Did we just blow a tire?”

“No, I think we just lost the hubcap.”

“Damn it!” He didn't slow the car as the road got bumpier and smaller. When they arrived, he yelled “t'abral!” and the gate flew open on its own. He stopped inside just an inch shy of a tree. Turning around he commanded, “t'clausan-el!” and the gate closed and locked itself, including the padlock that had flown free.

Once everyone's heart rate returned to normal, Michael turned to Karen and said, “I suppose there's some things we should explain to you...”