Into the out of by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster
Format: epub

threw up a dusty roostertail an unlimited hydroplane would’ve been proud of, and finally straightened out back on the pavement. How the driver missed the acacia tree growing just to the right side of the road Oak could never quite figure out, hut he was more than willing to accept the reprieve without an explanation. Somehow the rusty body held together along with all four of the nearly bald tires. It was a miracle they didn’t roll. The old Ford was no Land Rover and Oak didn’t doubt for a second that if they had rolled, all four of them would have been crushed to death inside. Suddenly wide awake and stone cold sober, the driver clung to the wheel like a limpet, alternating his gaze between the road ahead and the mad ilmeet in the back seat. Merry was on her knees, staring out the hack window. Oak bit back his instinctive response and waited. Eventually she turned and resumed her seat, blinked as if suddenly aware that she’d done something out of the ordinary. “I — I’m sorry. There was some truck tire rubber in the road and I thought I saw one piece move. A big piece. There’s no wind outside.” Their driver heard this and leaned forward until his chin was practically touching the wheel. Oak put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you saw it move?” She didn’t meet his gaze. “I thought I did.” He eyed her a moment longer before glancing up at Olkeloki. “What do you think?” “I do not know, Joshua Oak. I am so happy to he back in my own land that I have not been paying as much attention as perhaps I should to our immediate surroundings. As such it may be that she has saved us all.” “By almost killing us,” Oak mumbled. “Look, I said I was sorry,” said Merry belligerently, “but damnit, Josh, I swear I saw the thing move. I must have.” “It’s okay. Where these shetani are involved I’d rather react first and argue about it later.” “Shetani?” The driver looked up at him. “Nothing.” Oak offered him a placid smile. “Just an old story. The mama[?] was daydreaming, that’s all.” “Crazy muzungu,” he growled softly. For the remainder of the drive he didn’t speak, just clung to the wheel and stared straight ahead. The only casualty of Merry’s action was the easy camaraderie which had previously prevailed inside the matatu.

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