We were driving our car as fast as we could around some mountain roads during the rain. The rain was hard and the roads were slick. Almost every curve I took, I could hear my tires screeching like that of so many race cars. My wife, who was sitting in the passenger seat was urging me to slow down, “Harry! Slow down! You are going to get us killed!” I could not help but keep thinking how my little Honda was able to keep traction on these roads. We came to a straight section in the road when the engine started knocking! I knew it was too much for the engine but we had to get away!
“What now, genius?” Mary said to me. I was thinking very hard as the car died and I drifted it over to the side of the road. I kept kicking myself for not trying to borrow my wife’s brother’s sports car. I knew that what we had done was probably going to be too much on this old car. When the car finally died, I said, “Well… let’s grab the bags and get out. We need to find something!” We were about a hundred miles from nowhere and a hundred miles from anywhere.
“Do you hear that?” I exclaimed. There was a faint sound of sirens in the distance. The sirens were the unmistakable sounds of police cars. I frantically popped the hood open in a vain attempt to see what might be the problem with the engine. I knew nothing of engines but I figured it was worth a shot. The sirens were getting closer and closer. I looked at my wife who was now carrying three large duffle bags and standing in the rain next to me.
“We should just get into these woods before they get here!”
“We can’t do that. They will see our car and know we are here in the woods. We need to make it look like the car is just like every other abandoned car.” With that, I reached into the glove box, grabbed a handkerchief, and rolled it up into the window.
“Look honey, there is a small dirt road just down there. Let’s get to going down that road and we should find something. Where there is a road, there are bound to be people.”
“I don’t know Harry. These are the Appalachian hills.”
“Honey, this is the twenty first century, there are no backwoods hillbillies like you see in those horror flicks. We will just go ask someone for some help, and be on our way.”
“Won’t the cops recognize our car?” Mary said to me. I thought to myself for a brief moment about how much my next act was going to hurt, but I did not care. I was desperate. I took my coat off and wrapped it around my elbow as I smashed in two windows. I kicked the panels of our car a few times and threw mud all over. I yanked off the license plate and took out my knife to slash the tires.
“There. That should look somewhat convincing. Now let’s get going.” I grabbed two of the duffle bags from my wife and we took off like jack rabbits down the dirt road. We made it about a half of a mile down the dirt road when we heard the sirens at their loudest. We could hear them keep rolling on past where we had turned. Looking back one last time, I thought about the bank we just knocked off and how soon, soon we would be $300,000 dollars richer. We just had to make it through this road, or so I thought.