“Wait,” Stevie said, the anger in her voice gone, unfortunately replaced by hysteria. “Do you hear that?” “Stevie, you need to—” “No. Listen.” Charlie did . . . and she heard it too. “Is that a chopper?” As soon as Charlie asked the question, the military-type chopper charged past them, so close, Charlie was surprised it didn’t hit the roof of the car. Max slowed to a stop. The chopper turned and came back, hovering about fifty feet away. “Dude!” Max demanded, trying to look back at Stevie over her seat. “What kind of mental hospital did you go to?”
:D
