She's Awake
Washington, D.C., February 2030
Ellis sat in the back seat, wringing his hands. Dennis was driving. This was one of those times—one of many times—when he wished things were different. If he were driving, he'd be going eighty miles per hour, not sixty. Sure, he might get arrested, but that's a chance he'd take. His daughter was awake after two months in a coma. And Dennis is driving sixty?
"Can't you go any faster, Dennis?"
"Yes, sir, we could, but I'm afraid we might lose the cars following us. I'd rather be safe, sir."
Ellis sighed. Rather be safe. A practice he'd preached all of his life, now he was proposing to ignore it. "You're right, Dennis. I'm sorry for suggesting otherwise."
"No problem, sir. I understand."
"Maybe I should call that detective, the one who met us
