Copyright 2012 by JH Gordon
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The ancient sedan bounced through chuckholes as it made a dust-cloud out of the narrow mountain road. Snubs gripped the wheel tightly keeping the speed down enough to steer clear of sliding off the cliff or scraping the rocky outcroppings into an avalanche. The canyon beckoned. Snubs ignored it.
Ernie Flats stiff-armed the dashboard from the victim seat and averted his eyes from the gaping maw on his right. With one arm clenched over the seatback and his sweating hand splayed out on the dash, he held on like a pre-panicked toboggan rider. His legs braced his feet tightly to the floorboard and his wide eyes darted alternately from the speedometer to the curves in the road ahead.
“You know this road?”
“So you’ve been over it before...”