“Make that fifty hours and thirty-seven-point-two-three seconds. It’s the adrenaline, I guess. I ain’t really been tired. The thrill of the hunt.” We drove in silence for a moment. Red taillights appeared up ahead. I reached out and gripped the dashboard. Morgan said, “That, and those loud, piercing voices in my head.” Morgan’s eyes exploded. He shrieked as two sprays of blood flecked over the windshield. Jennifer screamed behind me, John and Fred bellowed “OH, FUCK,” simultaneously.
