Work Text
Headlights illuminated infinite passing concrete, churning forever on as we left The City. The city of sin, of lights and deaths. We left our heads while they were still buzzing.The hills to the north were illuminated as lightning struck. We didn’t know why we were wanted, like junk at a flea market, but we were. The hills bled red and rust and auburn sunlight as the blue fingers crept down the sky in harmony.The car rumbled, tore down that highway. I floored it; the fear of spinning off the road was only half that of what we were running from. We said nothing and heard nothing, less than radio static.I turned to her, in the passenger seat, a wave of pitiful humor appearing.“We’ve got a big mess on our hands.”And, anyway, that was just tonight.