Silence.
He waited until the first sedan’s window rolled down. A glint of a gun barrel. driver tweaker
He tweaked the fuel mapping on the fly, rerouting torque to the rear axles. He pulsed the brake lights in a staccato rhythm to warn the jackknifing sedan behind him before the sedan’s own AI even detected the skid. He was no longer a man driving a truck. He was a centaur: half meat, half machine, all instinct. Silence
