07-20-2021, 01:57 PM
Near was obliged, at Jude’s reappearance, to make a grudging admission: it wasn’t an unimpressive feat, the kid managing, against all apparent odds, to wriggle out of the mangled vehicle without killing himself. Not unimpressive, but not great, either, since his accomplishment meant the ongoing shrieky hysterics were no longer contained.
“I swear to god,” was all he could muster in response to the suggestion that he commit vehicular suicide, a quiet gnarl directed more to the empty air in front of him than to the proposer. Because empty air was as -- was maybe more -- helpful in an emergency, and honestly why was Jude even still there shouting down the road instead of attempting a mad dash through the woods if he was so damn worried about what was on its way?
“What was on its way” proved, shortly, to be an old black pickup truck with a dented bumper, which Near guessed was either not Them or proof that They ran a lower-budget operation than what he had cooked up in his head. It trundled by, then slowed to a stop with a pained whine of brakes just beyond the wreckage. After a second, a voice, feminine, floated out the window:
“Anybody hurt?”
“I swear to god,” was all he could muster in response to the suggestion that he commit vehicular suicide, a quiet gnarl directed more to the empty air in front of him than to the proposer. Because empty air was as -- was maybe more -- helpful in an emergency, and honestly why was Jude even still there shouting down the road instead of attempting a mad dash through the woods if he was so damn worried about what was on its way?
“What was on its way” proved, shortly, to be an old black pickup truck with a dented bumper, which Near guessed was either not Them or proof that They ran a lower-budget operation than what he had cooked up in his head. It trundled by, then slowed to a stop with a pained whine of brakes just beyond the wreckage. After a second, a voice, feminine, floated out the window:
“Anybody hurt?”