47

If you think that's best, then I'll do it," Emma says, her voice rising at the end as if asking a question.

"Emma, we are better shots than you, so we can cover your back."

"Yep, I got it. I'll be fine. We have to move that car."

Emma sucks in a deep breath and takes out a small handgun from her handbag. She steps off to the row of cars, idling toward the luxury car as a reluctant scout. You watch the entire area for movement: the van with the dead driver, the flattened sedan, the road behind the crash site, and finally the luxury car. Emma has gun pointed out, her arms extended, appearing as a rookie cop stepping into a crime den. Before reaching the vehicle, she stops and crouches down, looks under the vehicle then stands.

Nothing is moving around the trio of cars blocking the road. You look behind your vehicle and the road you have travelled. Again, nothing and no one is visible. When you glance back, Emma is in the car. You pull out your assault rifle and aim in front of you.

Emma looks under the seat, then pops up and checks the dashboard, the steering column, and the sun visors. Her hands fly through the interior, moving along all surfaces. She finds something and holds a pair of keys to the window, which then disappear behind the steering wheel. Just as the car's motor starts, a figure in the backseat sits up..