Tarabelle and Wallace sprinted toward the car. Jeff had to pry my hands from the dash to let them in. He managed to get the car in gear, and we moved haltingly along, braking for people who were still darting across the lot. “Anybody get hit?” Jeff asked as he guided the car onto the road. “Bubba Nash, ”Wallace answered breathlessly. “Hambone’s got him. He ain’t dead.”
