It's not like you're a hardened criminal, but life in the legal borderlands of lycanthropy has taught you how to skirt edge cases and deal with trouble. You skip the first person who stops because she seems too clean-cut—what if she thinks you're a teenage runaway and calls the cops? But when you flag down a local delivery driver heading east, he seems chill. And he is. He takes you all the way to Rochester, no problem.
It's in Rochester where you run into trouble. The first guy's Honda smells like there's a corpse in the back seat, and you get out as fast as you can. The second guy wants a blowjob and gets so aggressive that you have to bail at a stoplight. So you figure, maybe a woman will be safer, if one will even stop for you. You hop into a Chevy truck with a friendly looking older woman and you're there for over an hour before you see the flashing lights behind you.
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