car.

Farrow was fighting the wheel like a racing driver in a spin. Her hands
wrenched the wheel with the swift strength of the Mekstrom Flesh she
wore, and the wheel bent under her hands. Over and around she went, with
a tire blown and the lower rail of the big gate hanging onto the fender
like a dry-land sea-anchor. She juggled the wheel and made a snaky path
off to one side of the road.

Out of the guardhouse came a uniformed man with a riot gun. He did not
have time to raise it. Farrow ironed out her course and aimed the
careening car dead center. She mowed the guard down and a
half-thousandth of a second later she plowed into the guardhouse. The
structure erupted like a box of stove-matches hit with a heavy-caliber
soft-nosed slug, like a house of cards and an air-jet. There was a roar
and a small gout of flame and then out of the flying wreckage on the far
side came Farrow and her stolen car. Out of the mess of brimstone and
shingles she came, turning end for end in a crazy, metal-crushing twist
and spin. She ground to a broken halt before the last of the debris
landed, and then everything was silent.

And then for the first and only time in my life I felt the penetrant,
forceful impact of an incoming thought; a mental contact from another
mind:

#Steve!# it screamed in my mind, #Get out! Get going! It's your move
now----#

I put my foot on the faucet and poured on the oil.

XXI

My car leaped forward and I headed along the outside road towards the
nearby highway. Through the busted gate I roared, past the downed guard
and the smashed guardhouse, past the wreck of Farrow's car.

But Nurse Farrow was not finished with this gambit yet. As I drew even
with her, she pried herself out of the messy tangle and came across the
field in a dead run--and how that girl could run! As fast as I was
going, she caught up; as fast as it all happened I had too little time
to slow me down before Nurse Farrow closed the intervening distance from
her wreck to my car and had hooked her arm in through one open window.

My car lurched with the impact, but I fought the wheel straight again
and Farrow snapped, "Keep going, Steve!"

I kept going; Farrow snaked herself inside and flopped into the seat
beside me. "Now," she said, patting the dashboard of our car, "It's up
to the both of us now! Don't talk, Steve. Just drive like crazy!"

"Where--?"

She laughed a weak little chuckle. "Anywhere--so long as it's a long,