passenger’s seat. The dog pack chased them down the road, but soon gave up since more accessible prey was available.
“Slow down!” Macy yelled, and Marcy let off the gas halfway. Thankful that the road was clear of many obstacles, they soon approached a stop sign.
“Mom made this look so easy,” Marcy said as she pressed the brakes again, stopping them fifteen feet before the sign. This time they only leaned forward a little when she applied the brakes.
“This just takes practice, Marce,” Macy said. “Just move up a little more so we can turn onto the main road.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Marcy shouted. “You try to do this for the first time with wild dogs trying to get you. I just saved your life, Mace, so you should be grateful instead of giving me a hard time about it.”
“I was not giving you a hard time, Marcy. I’m just trying to help!” Macy yelled back.
Approaching the stop sign, Marcy removed her foot from the gas pedal and stomped the brake again. They both flew forward sharply and then back again.
“Marcy! Not so hard.”
“Sorry!” yelled Marcy, clearly frustrated about this driving thing.
With Marcy’s foot easing off the brake pedal, the Grand Am glided slowly forward. This time Marcy employed her newly learned technique of softly applying pressure to the brake. Both girls leaned forward, turning their blond curls left and then right in unison, checking for oncoming cars; they’d seen their parents do this many times. Since there no cars, Marcy turned the wheel, not paying attention to the lines on the road. Her driving was simply an effort to stay on the road, and being in the middle just seemed like a good idea. The farther they got into town, the more cars they’d have to dodge anyway. If one did come the other way, she figured she would pull over then.
Macy checked behind. No more dogs followed them. Turning back to face front, she knew there were a few straight miles ahead of them before they got to the highway turnoff. She began to look around. Up ahead, the first stop light intersection came into view and there were cars stopped in one lane, even though the light had turned green.
Marcy slowed down as the lane divided, one for going straight, the other for turning. She came to a stop, trying to assess the situation. They waited behind a gray SUV at the green light. They had rehearsed this scenario many times in the past and both girls thought the car should have started moving by now, but it did not.
“Honk the horn,” Macy suggested as the idea came to her.
Marcy studied the steering wheel, looking for the right thing to press. She finally noticed the horn icon and pressed it, allowing the intrusive sound to disturb the afternoon silence all around them. Birds flew up in haste along the street side.
Once the sound had dissipated into the late afternoon horizon, Macy put the drive stick back into R . Marcy then depressed the gas pedal and they rolled backward several car lengths. After applying gentle pressure to the brakes again, to keep herself and her sister from flopping around like ragdolls, Marcy came to a complete stop. Macy moved the drive stick to D again and Marcy rotated the steering wheel left and pressed the gas pedal a little to pass the parked car.
Slowing as they passed the SUV, Macy could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Though the girls could not see the face, they both knew what had happened; and now reality was settling in.
“I hope Dad’s okay,” Macy said, never having thought of the possibility that he, too, could have become a victim of the virus.
Driving through the intersection that led to the highway entrance ramp, the girls noticed several cars in the way. As Marcy snaked their car through, it scraped a Suburban; the horrible screeching continued as the Grand Am forced itself through the space between the other car and the guardrail.
Marcy continued to wind her way, having somewhat gotten the hang of this
“Slow down!” Macy yelled, and Marcy let off the gas halfway. Thankful that the road was clear of many obstacles, they soon approached a stop sign.
“Mom made this look so easy,” Marcy said as she pressed the brakes again, stopping them fifteen feet before the sign. This time they only leaned forward a little when she applied the brakes.
“This just takes practice, Marce,” Macy said. “Just move up a little more so we can turn onto the main road.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Marcy shouted. “You try to do this for the first time with wild dogs trying to get you. I just saved your life, Mace, so you should be grateful instead of giving me a hard time about it.”
“I was not giving you a hard time, Marcy. I’m just trying to help!” Macy yelled back.
Approaching the stop sign, Marcy removed her foot from the gas pedal and stomped the brake again. They both flew forward sharply and then back again.
“Marcy! Not so hard.”
“Sorry!” yelled Marcy, clearly frustrated about this driving thing.
With Marcy’s foot easing off the brake pedal, the Grand Am glided slowly forward. This time Marcy employed her newly learned technique of softly applying pressure to the brake. Both girls leaned forward, turning their blond curls left and then right in unison, checking for oncoming cars; they’d seen their parents do this many times. Since there no cars, Marcy turned the wheel, not paying attention to the lines on the road. Her driving was simply an effort to stay on the road, and being in the middle just seemed like a good idea. The farther they got into town, the more cars they’d have to dodge anyway. If one did come the other way, she figured she would pull over then.
Macy checked behind. No more dogs followed them. Turning back to face front, she knew there were a few straight miles ahead of them before they got to the highway turnoff. She began to look around. Up ahead, the first stop light intersection came into view and there were cars stopped in one lane, even though the light had turned green.
Marcy slowed down as the lane divided, one for going straight, the other for turning. She came to a stop, trying to assess the situation. They waited behind a gray SUV at the green light. They had rehearsed this scenario many times in the past and both girls thought the car should have started moving by now, but it did not.
“Honk the horn,” Macy suggested as the idea came to her.
Marcy studied the steering wheel, looking for the right thing to press. She finally noticed the horn icon and pressed it, allowing the intrusive sound to disturb the afternoon silence all around them. Birds flew up in haste along the street side.
Once the sound had dissipated into the late afternoon horizon, Macy put the drive stick back into R . Marcy then depressed the gas pedal and they rolled backward several car lengths. After applying gentle pressure to the brakes again, to keep herself and her sister from flopping around like ragdolls, Marcy came to a complete stop. Macy moved the drive stick to D again and Marcy rotated the steering wheel left and pressed the gas pedal a little to pass the parked car.
Slowing as they passed the SUV, Macy could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Though the girls could not see the face, they both knew what had happened; and now reality was settling in.
“I hope Dad’s okay,” Macy said, never having thought of the possibility that he, too, could have become a victim of the virus.
Driving through the intersection that led to the highway entrance ramp, the girls noticed several cars in the way. As Marcy snaked their car through, it scraped a Suburban; the horrible screeching continued as the Grand Am forced itself through the space between the other car and the guardrail.
Marcy continued to wind her way, having somewhat gotten the hang of this
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