She was humming.
Not because the lava zone had given her any particular reason to hum.
The smoke was still thick, the boulders were still falling, and the volcanic path was still sinking the instant it passed under her wheels.
She was humming because of the particular way his truck had been slowing down back there, and because of the exact spot on the path where it had happened, and because of what those two facts meant when put together. A small mystery, perhaps, but then the mind likes to pretend small mysteries are harmless.
She accelerated.
The damaged right panel protested the acceleration in the same tired way it had been protesting everything. She ignored it.
His truck was ahead of her.
The distance closed when her high speed has enough straight road to work with, steadily and with a confidence that almost felt rude.
