This Side of the Hudson: Stormy and Red

We made our way down the dark damp tunnel, trunk in tow.
“Joey,” JJ wimpered, “I think I felt a spider.”
“Forget the stupid spider, we gotta get outta here!” I hissed.

As soon as we reached the cool darkenss of the night air, we broke into a run for the truck. I looked up.
“It’s fixin’ to storm,” I called to JJ. He almost froze; I’d forgotten he was terrified of storms, the big sissy. I half-dragged him the rest of the way.

We tossed the trunk in the back and scrambled into the cab.
“Floor it Joey!” I stuck the key in the ignition and stomped on the gas pedal. Nothing.
“Dannit! We’re outta gas, remember?” I yelled to JJ over a clap of thunder. We rolled out of the cab and ran for the back. We were just about to grab the trunk when we were coated with headlights. Great, I thought.
“Hands in the air!” a voice behind us called. JJ and I slowly complied. He gave me a terrified look. But I couldn’t do or say anything to hide the truth from him.
We were caught red-handed.

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