Cross Country Catastrophe (Superhero Black Hole, part 66)
Funny thing about Zoe – she never did learn to drive. She’s old enough to, but she simply never bothered to learn. She didn’t even make up a good excuse about it.
Henceforth, this is how I wound up driving us through the countryside to our new habitat, whilst she played old school Tetris on her phone in the passenger seat.
Now, considering what happened to us next, neither Zoe or me can remember exactly where we were at the time I was driving. After all, one piece of countryside is indistinguishable from another piece. We could’ve been anywhere that was 341 miles outside of New York.
But, one minute I was driving along – Pink Floyd blaring from the radio – and the next, my face and head and skull was bombarded with glass and banging and screaming and hard surfaces and weightlessness and scraping and screeching and—
Thick, tangible noiselessness.
Then a slowly rising ringing in my ears.
My eyes opened.
Vision clouded with red.
I saw a van.
Men coming out of it.