We’ll be happy again. The dents were all superficial and the paint easily replaced.

The cracks in the windshield and the lights would require replacements but they were okay to drive for now, at least during the day.

I patty Jenny’s hood in consolation, the poor lass hadn’t deserved any of this Les treatment.

Then a familar spark of power shot through my arm.

I watched the crash in reverse. The tires repaired and inflated, the glass uncracked, the dents undented and the paint was almost as good as new.

“Is that thing working yet?” An impatient voice demanded. “Cos we’re going to need it in about three minutes.”

“Yes,” I said, leaping into the driver’s seat. She got in the other side. “Why, what’s going to happen-”

At least this time I didn’t scream. Not even when the car refused to level out and the nose went bright red.

“Goodbye Lionel,” she sniffled.

The next thing I knew we were skidding through a field of zombies to stop in front of a broken farmhouse, then someone shot at us.