“I want to drive. Switch seats with me.”
He nodded dumbly and climbed out of the jeep. She made her way over to the driver’s seat, then waited for him to climb in before she peeled out.
I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess she doesn’t have a license.
The jeep cut through the shallow water that covered the roads. Others had noticed her leaving, she knew, and were following in their own vehicle.
Hm? Are there other Slaughterhouse members around?
She could sense them, each a fingerprint of emotions in deeply individual configurations. The mix of personal pride and confidence that she sensed in them suggested they were military. The soldiers that had been taking over for this guy?
Oh, okay. I suppose maybe he didn’t properly check out before getting enthralled. Or maybe they noticed the seat switch?
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