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Authors: Joel Pierson
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hands clutch the steering wheel so tightly, small rips appear in the vinyl under my fingernails.
I am marginally aware that drivers around me are honking and swerving, trying to get out of my way as I try to get out of theirs. The message is coming in, loud, persistent, fast, detailed. But I can’t crash the car. I think Rebecca is calling my name. When I don’t respond, I feel her grip the wheel and pull us to the shoulder of Route 19. As the message plays out and the pain subsides, I feel the presence of mind to take my foot off the gas pedal and move it to the brake. Once we come to a complete stop, I put the Sebring in park, and sit there for a moment, gasping for breath.
“So,” she says calmly, “where are we going this time?”
I look at her, taken by her aplomb, while simultaneously terrified at how close I just came to crashing the car, and utter a single word: “Atlanta.”
Chapter 6
A few minutes later, I am able to continue. Rebecca decides that safety is more important than the rental company’s rules, so she takes the wheel as I rest up in the passenger’s seat.
“So are you all right?” she asks as we continue north on Route 19. “Because that looked … shit, that looked pretty weird.”
“You seemed calm at the time.”
“I figure one of us had to be. Inside, I was scared. I didn’t know if you were gonna be able to keep control of the car. You didn’t tell me this could happen when you were driving.”
“It never has before,” I tell her.
“So why now?”
“Urgency, I think. We don’t have much time to get there.”
“Atlanta?” she says.
“Atlanta.”
“What’s the assignment?”
I give her the details and she looks anxious. I’m feeling it too this time. If I’m right, there’s an awful lot at stake. “We have a little less than eight hours, and it’ll take almost that long to get there,” I inform her. “I want you to go no more than five over the speed limit.”
“I can go twenty over if it’ll help.”
“It won’t help us if we get pulled over. Keep it at five over and we should be fine.”
“It’s weird,” she says, “it’s just weird. This is so last-minute. I mean, as important as this is, you’d think they’d give you more time … whoever the hell they are.”
“The best I can figure, this situation just arose, and there wasn’t time to give me more warning.” I shake my head as my strength slowly returns to me. “Something feels wrong about this. I know this sounds crazy, but something just feels … different, and not in a good way.”
“You’ve never done one like this before?”
“Not exactly like this, no. Here, you’ll want to get on I-75 North here.”
She takes the on-ramp to the interstate, and we quickly accelerate to seventy-five miles per hour. Finding the words, she poses a difficult question. “What happens to you … if you can’t help this person?”
“As long as I try, nothing bad will happen to me. I can’t control whether they listen to my warning or not. If I refused to try … well, let’s just say it wouldn’t end well for me.”
“Shit,” she says quietly.
“Still want to be my friend?” I ask with a little laugh.
Her answer is sincere and without hesitation. “Yes. Of course I do.” She almost sounds offended that I’d ask. “This is … Jesus, this is unique. Who else gets this opportunity? You’re the only one, right?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone else who does this, but there could be others. I just don’t know.”
“I’ve never read about anyone doing this,” she says. “Never saw anybody on TV. This is such an amazing thing you do. Why don’t you tell the world about this?”
“Rebecca, this is the age of reality television. The last thing I need for credibility is a camera crew following me around everywhere I go.”
“Yeah, okay, I can see that.” A realization comes to her. “Does that mean I’m the only person you’ve trusted with
I am marginally aware that drivers around me are honking and swerving, trying to get out of my way as I try to get out of theirs. The message is coming in, loud, persistent, fast, detailed. But I can’t crash the car. I think Rebecca is calling my name. When I don’t respond, I feel her grip the wheel and pull us to the shoulder of Route 19. As the message plays out and the pain subsides, I feel the presence of mind to take my foot off the gas pedal and move it to the brake. Once we come to a complete stop, I put the Sebring in park, and sit there for a moment, gasping for breath.
“So,” she says calmly, “where are we going this time?”
I look at her, taken by her aplomb, while simultaneously terrified at how close I just came to crashing the car, and utter a single word: “Atlanta.”
Chapter 6
A few minutes later, I am able to continue. Rebecca decides that safety is more important than the rental company’s rules, so she takes the wheel as I rest up in the passenger’s seat.
“So are you all right?” she asks as we continue north on Route 19. “Because that looked … shit, that looked pretty weird.”
“You seemed calm at the time.”
“I figure one of us had to be. Inside, I was scared. I didn’t know if you were gonna be able to keep control of the car. You didn’t tell me this could happen when you were driving.”
“It never has before,” I tell her.
“So why now?”
“Urgency, I think. We don’t have much time to get there.”
“Atlanta?” she says.
“Atlanta.”
“What’s the assignment?”
I give her the details and she looks anxious. I’m feeling it too this time. If I’m right, there’s an awful lot at stake. “We have a little less than eight hours, and it’ll take almost that long to get there,” I inform her. “I want you to go no more than five over the speed limit.”
“I can go twenty over if it’ll help.”
“It won’t help us if we get pulled over. Keep it at five over and we should be fine.”
“It’s weird,” she says, “it’s just weird. This is so last-minute. I mean, as important as this is, you’d think they’d give you more time … whoever the hell they are.”
“The best I can figure, this situation just arose, and there wasn’t time to give me more warning.” I shake my head as my strength slowly returns to me. “Something feels wrong about this. I know this sounds crazy, but something just feels … different, and not in a good way.”
“You’ve never done one like this before?”
“Not exactly like this, no. Here, you’ll want to get on I-75 North here.”
She takes the on-ramp to the interstate, and we quickly accelerate to seventy-five miles per hour. Finding the words, she poses a difficult question. “What happens to you … if you can’t help this person?”
“As long as I try, nothing bad will happen to me. I can’t control whether they listen to my warning or not. If I refused to try … well, let’s just say it wouldn’t end well for me.”
“Shit,” she says quietly.
“Still want to be my friend?” I ask with a little laugh.
Her answer is sincere and without hesitation. “Yes. Of course I do.” She almost sounds offended that I’d ask. “This is … Jesus, this is unique. Who else gets this opportunity? You’re the only one, right?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone else who does this, but there could be others. I just don’t know.”
“I’ve never read about anyone doing this,” she says. “Never saw anybody on TV. This is such an amazing thing you do. Why don’t you tell the world about this?”
“Rebecca, this is the age of reality television. The last thing I need for credibility is a camera crew following me around everywhere I go.”
“Yeah, okay, I can see that.” A realization comes to her. “Does that mean I’m the only person you’ve trusted with
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