Mitch sighed, fumbling with one hand for the yellow puffball. The car was brand new -- this would be his first time in the game as a driver. Finding it, he picked it up and bounced it in one hand.
Alright... they headed back the other way. They're in a hot-shit gas-guzzler and I'm in a puny battery job (no offense, he thought, patting the car's dash). I don't know who any of the other players are. Great.
'The course is clear', Mitch thought. 'I've gotta outsmart 'em.'
"Oh, Mitch..." Mitch sang out.
"Yes?" his own voice, mechanically reproduced, replied. He had been using a sultry female voice and calling the system Sylvia, but he found the revision suited him better.
"Search state police radio bands, subject: unusual, reckless driving, nearby our current position."
Mitch sat and hummed with the radio, awaiting a reply. It came finally, in an anonymous trooper's voice, with a loud initial SKRA-AWK "Westbound traffic in the Eastbound lane of the Pike: one white vehicle, model unknown, one green Ford LTD, mid-'70's, at mile marker..." It had been only about twenty-five miles back. The green car was Sanders's, he recognized...
"Thank you, Mitch."
"You're welcome," his voice replied.
"Now if I know Sanders, and God knows I'd never claim to, he's picked up some hapless freshman at the airport again. Wish I'd thought up that stunt... still gives us no reason for why he's headed west." Mitch took an exit, preparing to legally reach the other side of the road. "And I was going to be early this year" he complained to no one in particular.
To Be Continued....Return to the control division.
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