To The East

The radio station began to fade out, turning to low static. I played with the dial, finding only fuzz, and eventually turned the radio off.

The sky was peculiar; the western half was a bright, deep blue, the kind that coats the sky on endless summer days. The eastern half was a dark grey, nothing peeking through the thick storm clouds. We were driving towards the gloom, a suitable comparison to our current situation.

"We've been followed for the past ten minutes," he said, nervously looking at the rear-view mirrors. "Just as I thought we were home free."

"That's always how it happens," I said. "You should know that by now. We're never safe." I glanced at the mirrors. He was right – a shiny, black SUV was cautiously lingering behind us.

"Shall I?" he asked. I grinned at him, grabbing the handlebar on the ceiling. He grinned back, holding his cigarette in his teeth. "Do it."

His foot slammed on the pedal.