Page 63 of Pucker Factor

Sarah laughed maniacally, tossing her head back as she barely paid attention to the road. She slowed down just long enough for Red and IKE to grab onto the vehicle. They weren’t even squished inside with us as she took off again.

“So, where to?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her face as she rested her elbow on the window ledge.

I clung to the dashboard, squeezing my eyes closed as I tried to gain my composure. What the fuck was that?

“Airport,” Scottie barked. “Just…follow this road.”

I glanced to the side just as he leaned over the door and puked all over the side of the Jeep.

“Not my suit!” IKE shouted as the puke flew back onto him. “What the fuck? Now I have to burn this!”

I didn’t even see how we made it to the airport. I was pretty sure someone else was directing her, because I was too busy trying not to puke as fumes of vomit wafted in my direction. When she came to a screeching halt, Scottie fell out of the Jeep and puked again. I was still gripping the dash as if my life depended on it.

Sarah turned to me with a smile. “That was so much fun.”

I slowly turned and looked at her like the lunatic she was. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Red clapped me on the shoulder, laughing the whole time. “Relax, it’s not like we haven’t done the same thing before.”

They all jumped out of the Jeep, but I didn’t seem to be able to move. “Yeah, but we all know what we’re doing!”

They weren’t even listening. They started running, glancing behind them. I finally looked over my shoulder and swore when I saw the police racing down the street. “Fuck, we just can’t catch a break!”

I hauled myself out of the Jeep, stepping in Scottie’s vomit on the way. My feet ate up the pavement as I raced toward the Cessna waiting for us. In a lawn chair just outside the hangar was a man in a pink shirt and a fedora, sleeping with a cigar in his mouth.

“Max!” Scottie shouted. “We need to move now!”

The man snorted as he jerked awake, dropping his cigar in his lap. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Don’t you know better than to yell at a man when he’s napping?”

“We need to leave!” Scottie shouted again.

“Alright, alright. I’ll have it fixed in the—”

Bullets pinged off the hangar and he ducked to the ground, his eyes wide as he stared at the police. “You fucking brought the police with you?”

“You said you’d have it fixed!”

“So, you ratted me out?” he shouted, running toward his own plane.

“No, we blew up a sex trade building.”

“Oh, that’s fucking perfect!” he shouted, about to climb up into his plane, but stopped and pointed a finger at Scottie. “You owe me a plane!”

“You owe me a plane!” Scottie retorted. “Mine isn’t fixed yet!”

I missed what this guy Max said as he climbed into the Cessna which looked way too small to fit all of us. “Scottie, what the fuck are we doing?” I asked, shoving Sarah up the steps.

“We’re getting on the fucking plane!”

“This plane?” I asked incredulously.

He turned back to me with a scowl on his face. “No, the one that doesn’t work,” he retorted. “I was going to just wait things out there and see what happens!”

I started climbing, shoving Sarah by the ass into the plane. “You know, we’re gonna have a talk about—”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a talk with everyone. All you want to do is talk,” he snapped.

“Get the fuck in here!” Max shouted, flipping switches, all while smoking his cigar.

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