The sun was sinking in a spectacular explosion of red and lavender when Anthy glanced at the clock. "We're going to be late," she said, annoyance dripping off her voice like rain.
I sighed. "Well, the hour-long construction backup didn't help."
"Nor did the half-hour gawker's block for an accident on the other side of the road," she added.
"We'll just have to call and let them know," I said, as reasonably as I could.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the speedometer needle rise steadily. When it passed 90 miles per hour, I felt a cold chill at the base of my neck. I attempted to distract myself by looking at the side of the road, but no wildlife manifested to distract me.
When I brought my gaze back to the road ahead, I saw a high embankment facing us. Next to the pavement that led directly to it stood a sign reading, "Exit Closed."
"Anthy-- !" I shouted, flinging myself back in the seat and bracing my feet against the floorboard.
Then we went through the grassy bank, and ended up on another, perfectly smooth road, some miles away.
I exhaled noisily. "I hate it when you do that."
Anthy turned a sweet smile on me. "But we won't be late now."