Road TripChapter 4
“God, Connie, I’m not dying. Slow down.” A second set of particularly nauseating chatter bumps rattled my bones and the jeep. “Not dying?” Consuelo said, “You haven’t seen your ankle ... No! Don’t look!” She looked at her watch ... try that while driving over a dust gravel road full of the evidence that the county hasn’t been using your taxes in the proper manner. “We need to loosen the tourniquet for a minute.” She started to pull over. “I can do it!” I said. “No!” She pulled off the...