Mrs. Million
“Million 28 IN HIS DREAM, HE was riding a tall horse across the big-sky country of Montana, the horse covering miles with each stride. Bobby looked back and saw Rodney Gent bounding after him. Bobby pressed down on the accelerator, but the horse would go no faster. He clapped a hand to his head, suddenly afraid that his El Presidente would blow off, then realized that the duct tape was holding it firmly in place and something was clutching at his shoulder.
“Wake up.”
Bobby swam for the surface, ...opened his eyes. His thoughts moved sluggishly, reluctantly embracing consciousness. Headlights illuminated tree trunks and naked branches. He was in a car, in the passenger seat, in the woods. He turned his head, saw André, his beard faintly lit by the dashboard lights. They were not moving. The dashboard clock read 2:12. They’d been in the car for hours, driving, the professor looking for the perfect spot for his friend to spend eternity, talking the whole time. Bobby had finally dozed off.MoreLess
“Wake up.”
Bobby swam for the surface, ...opened his eyes. His thoughts moved sluggishly, reluctantly embracing consciousness. Headlights illuminated tree trunks and naked branches. He was in a car, in the passenger seat, in the woods. He turned his head, saw André, his beard faintly lit by the dashboard lights. They were not moving. The dashboard clock read 2:12. They’d been in the car for hours, driving, the professor looking for the perfect spot for his friend to spend eternity, talking the whole time. Bobby had finally dozed off.MoreLess
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