Through the Fog (Chapter 11)

It’ll make more sense if you start with Chapter 1.

Through the Fog

Math, after that much to drink, was tough. Driving was impossible, but I did it anyway; sitting and waiting for the cousins seemed like a bad idea.

Let’s see; we’d driven about an hour, so let’s call that 40 miles; just over a gallon of petrol in this tiny thing, but let’s call it two. Figure, say, a 12-gallon tank, so 10 left. Okay, we’ll say 300 miles, plus or minus, until it runs out of fuel because I still don’t have a nickel. But that should get me to Galway; seems like that should be less than 200 miles from south Kerry.

Why Galway? Why not the airport? Maybe it wasn’t logical, but the feeling about Galway was so strong I thought I’d run with it. Plenty of time to change my mind between here and Limerick.

Ocean on my right again; through Blackwaterbridge, Kenmare, north toward Killarney. Not as fast as I’d like, since getting pinched for driving drunk without a license or a clue in a stolen car wasn’t my goal right now.

After an hour of weaving, slowing to let cars pass, struggling to remember which side to drive on, I gave up. I couldn’t focus on more than the little bit of my lane just ahead of the car; my stomach was lurching with every bump; my head was starting to hurt from dehydration. As much as I hated the idea of getting caught and beat up again, I hated the idea of ramming into some unfortunate holiday-makers even more. As I approached McGillicuddy’s Reeks, the traffic was heavier and slower. I weighed the risks, and pulled over.

This time, sleep didn’t take its time. I switched off the engine, and everything went black.

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