Forty-one minutes, that was the estimate I had come up with. Given how quickly I was watching the surrounding landscape blaze by, I could roughly judge that Brenden and I were moving at an average speed of about 120 miles per hour.
Which, given any other circumstance…would be fast as fuck; however, with the looming threat of the Runic inscription activating at any given minute, it still felt slow, in my opinion.
'Are we going to make it in time?' Hearing my response to our father, Brenden, who was keeping pace with me as we navigated through the inclined terrain of suburbia, asked with apparent concern in his voice.
'I don't know; I wasn't kidding when I said everything is conjecture, but I will not take chances and play games when it comes to a fucking lunatic like Draven.' Reaching into my inventory, I withdrew both camel packs, putting one around my shoulders like a backpack, and handed over the second to my brother.
