Murder Mile

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The car rounded the bend a little too fast and the tyres aquaplaned on the wet road; it was enough to send the girls on the back seat from giggles to screams. They were not real screams, more for show, silliness. They were the type of screams that presented themselves after a night of hilarity and heavy drinking. The aim was to keep the boys focused; focused on them. It had the desired effect.

‘That’s my hearing gone,’ said Ben.

The girls giggled again, started to scream again.

‘I’m not kidding, that’s me fully deaf now!’

The driver lowered the revs, dropped speed. The night was wet, the rain had stopped but there was a lot of water sitting in potholes and puddles by the side of the road that splashed up every time the tyres made contact.

‘You pulling over?’ said Ben.

‘Eh?’

‘You’re slowing down…’ He had to raise his voice, the girls had started to sing on the back seat now. ‘I’m only saying, if you’re stopping…’

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