09-08-2021, 09:49 PM
“No.”
Of course he wasn’t sure that setting fire to his rental car was the appropriate response to their present situation. It was just the concept had a very faint aura of rightness, this barely-there smell of “good move” like milk on the bleeding edge of going sour. They were being chased, so a burning car (complete with massive explosion?) would distract their pursuers, throw them off track, fool them into thinking that driver and passenger had both incinerated miserably inside. And no more car. Win/win, all problems resolved.
But Jude’s reaction wasn’t encouraging, and the semblance of brilliance sloughed off quick. Shock logic or concussion logic or Hollywood logic, maybe there was no difference. Near shook his head, more at himself than the kid, because brilliant or not he just kind of wanted to set fire to the car, whatever that would entail, like taking a bat to something fragile but on a more prison-worthy scale.
“Olympia?” The driver chewed on the word for a few seconds and then spat it, literally spat it, out onto the road. “I can drop you off in Burley, assuming you don’t want to call somebody about ... this.”
“Burley” might as well have been on the moon. Near fixed another look on Jude, who seemed to care where he was going more, and who had to be more familiar with the surrounding area than Near. (Thinking this, he realized how untrue the second part was.)
Of course he wasn’t sure that setting fire to his rental car was the appropriate response to their present situation. It was just the concept had a very faint aura of rightness, this barely-there smell of “good move” like milk on the bleeding edge of going sour. They were being chased, so a burning car (complete with massive explosion?) would distract their pursuers, throw them off track, fool them into thinking that driver and passenger had both incinerated miserably inside. And no more car. Win/win, all problems resolved.
But Jude’s reaction wasn’t encouraging, and the semblance of brilliance sloughed off quick. Shock logic or concussion logic or Hollywood logic, maybe there was no difference. Near shook his head, more at himself than the kid, because brilliant or not he just kind of wanted to set fire to the car, whatever that would entail, like taking a bat to something fragile but on a more prison-worthy scale.
“Olympia?” The driver chewed on the word for a few seconds and then spat it, literally spat it, out onto the road. “I can drop you off in Burley, assuming you don’t want to call somebody about ... this.”
“Burley” might as well have been on the moon. Near fixed another look on Jude, who seemed to care where he was going more, and who had to be more familiar with the surrounding area than Near. (Thinking this, he realized how untrue the second part was.)