morning driveFifty-five, sixty, sixty-five miles an hour. The speedometer kept rising. Seventy-five, eighty-five. What else was there to do on a straight desert highway? One-hundred. A vehicle ahead started to appear through the horizon. One-hundred-ten. He blew by it in a flash. It was a stopped car on the side of the road. A glance in the mirror informed him their hood was raised. Car Trouble? Maybe. Could also just be a trap for good samaritans. He peeked inside the glove box. The early desert sun gleamed off the gun metal blue finish. One-hundred, ninety, seventy-five, fifty, thirty-five, twenty. His car slide over onto the shoulder. Ten, five, zero. The driver grabbed the pistol, checked it was loaded, safety on, and placed it in the shoulder holster. A look into the mirror, and then he was off; heading back.
the man crept onto the shoulder opposite the distressed vehicle. A mus