the inside of the car

the pedals were all wrong. it was like one of those dreams where you get what you want - in this case a stolen car, the one you really wanted - and nothing's right about it. nick had no worries of this sort. he was in the back seat. kirk said nothing and kept driving. a sinisterly looming car drifted towards them from the other lane, the one going in the opposite direction. it's physics; the force of impact would be maximized as they were directly opposite each other. nick said nothing. kirk flinched, or wanted to; sweat was already beading up on his forehead, but now he didn't know what to do. how could you drive a stolen car across three states if you weren't capable of passing one oncoming car without breaking a sweat? that was the sort of question nick might ask. he was in the backseat, head half turned, apparently humming softly to himself.