Chapter Seven // Followers

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I, Doc and Einie wait at least twenty-five minutes in the traffic before we even move a mile. After another fifteen minutes later, Doc grows pissed, slapping his hand against his lap. "Damn this traffic!" He shouts. "Jennifer, that is old Jennifer, usually gets home around now. I hope we're not too late."

Yeah, me too.

I then notice Doc looking through his binoculars from earlier, with a concerned look on his face. "What is it, what's the matter, Doc?" I ask, trying to look behind us to see what was going on.

Doc's face twitches in concern. "For a moment, I thought I saw a taxi in my rear display. I thought it was following us." He glances back once more. "Weird."


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