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“I didn’t tell her to drive!”
“How do I put this in drive?” Wren panicked.
“You have to press the button to start the van,” Fox said calmly. “Here, let me?—”
He was about to go into the front when we were hit from behind. Wren screamed, pressing the button. She shifted and hit the gas, but instead of going forward, we flew backward, running over whoever was behind us.
“Stop driving!” I shouted.
“You want me to keep driving?” she screeched, hitting the gas even harder.
We crashed through the window of the diner, the tail end of the minivan half inside. Fox winced as he looked at me. “Why the fuck would you let her drive?”
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Wren screamed. She was shifting gears like crazy, having no idea why the hell the van wouldn’t go anywhere. “Why won’t it move?”
“Because you’re in neutral!” Fox shouted at her. “You want the big D!”
“Stop talking about sex! This isn’t the time for it!”
“Not the big D as in dick. You need to shift into drive!”
We were hit from the side by a pickup truck and the knife in my side shifted. I gritted my teeth, trying not to yell in pain. Wren screamed when a man landed on the windshield, something that was becoming the norm for her.
I jolted back as she shifted to drive and hit the gas. I caught myself against Fox as the roar of motorcycles filled the air.
“There’s no way we’re getting out of this alive!” I said to Fox.
“Have faith, my friend.”
“You have faith. I’ll be fucking realistic!” I sucked in a breath when I saw we were headed straight for one of those gigantic billboard signs. “Wren!” I shouted, looking at her. Her eyes were fucking closed. “Watch the fucking road!”
She screamed as she pressed down on the gas. “We’re gonna crash!” she shouted.
“Don’t hit the sign!” I yelled.
Turning around, she glared at me. “You want me to hit the sign? Are you crazy!”
The man on the windshield grinned right before we crashed through the sign and he was wiped off. I rolled to the side of the van as Wren lost control of the vehicle, sending us in circles as she tried to control the minivan.
“Telephone pole!” I pointed.
She jerked the wheel and we barely missed, taking out the side mirror on the passenger side. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Keep driving!” Fox shouted.
“I hate driving!”
“I need this fucking knife out of me!” I cried as I rolled into Fox, feeling the pinch as the knife dug deeper.
“Oh shit!” Fox shouted. “Uh…we have some bikers on our ass. They don’t look too happy.”
“What do I do?” Wren cried out.
“Show tunes!”
“What?”
“I need some fucking show tunes!” Fox shouted.
