The car, though a sportster, was much larger and heavier than the one he had been allowed to use so briefly, and he sat so low in the bucket seat that he was unable to make out the side of the road. The only thing to do, he realized, was to hug the mountainside on his left, and pray. The rain increased. With every passing second it became more difficult to see the way. Several times he braked to a full stop, waited until he could glimpse a few more yards ahead, then cautiously inched onward. They may have been halfway down to the main road when some instinct warned him it was time to stop. As he braked again his straining eyes were able to distinguish what seemed to be two ancient gateposts on the left. “Do you know if it’s safe to drive in there?” he asked Black Luis. “It’s a good road for a short distance. It goes down to a pineapple field in the other valley.” Ronnie tugged the wheel over. Carefully, slowly, he sent the car between the posts and on into the blackness on the other side.
What do You think about Flight To The Lonesome Place?
