Then he led me back to the bank of the river

“Easy around the bend,” Buddy said. “It ain’t for nothin’ they call it the boneyard.”

“I never crash,” Jones muttered.

“Don’t be cocky boy.”

The car swerved through the curve and Jones glimpsed the taillights of a wrecked car down the ravine.

“Past two barns on the right then turn left.”

“You’ve said that twice already.”

“You gotta know this well enough to do it without thinking.”

Jones sighed silently and turned left.

“Check your rear for lights.”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Jones hit the brakes.

“You’ll have to be able to work under far more stress than this.” Buddy opened a beer. “Go on.”

“No lights at our tail. Haven’t been for 17 kilometres.” Jones started driving, turned right and rolled down an overgrown forest access road, where he turned off the lights and stopped again. “Making sure, again, that there are no lights up at the road.” Nothing moved, he turned on the lights and started rolling again. “Staying on the gravel, to not leave any tracks… stopping by the edge of the water.”

The dark water of a calm river flowed in front of them.

“Check the water, then the marks. Back up if you are not on the mark.” Buddy emptied the beer and opened another one.

Jones rolled out into the river and kept the car lined up with the marks on the other side. The water pulled the car slightly but it stayed on the ramp.

“Just like Jesus, Jones,” Buddy chuckled. “Just like Jesus.”

On the other side he followed a dirt road through a ghost town and up to a tarmac road.

“The cops won’t look for you here. Unless you screw up. Change the plates, if you think the cops spotted you, then keep on rolling.”