Year of the Jackpot 23

Breen stared at it, glanced at his watch, then said harshly,
"Get in the car."
"Pottythat was . . . that was"
"That wasthat used to beLos Angeles. Get in the car!"
He simply drove for several minutes. Meade seemed to
be in a state of shock, unable to speak. When the sound
reached them he again glanced at his watch. "Six minutes
and "nineteen seconds. That's about right."
"Pottywe should have brought Mrs. Megeath."
"How was I to know?" he said angrily. "Anyhow, you can't
transplant an old tree. If she got it, she never knew it."
"Oh, I hope sol"
"Forget it; straighten out and fly right. We're going to
have all we can do to take care of ourselves. Take the flash-
light and check the map. I want to turn north at Taft and
over toward the coast."
"Yes, Potiphar."
"And try the radio."
She quieted down and did as she was told. The radio
gave nothing, not even the Riverside station; the whole
broadcast range was covered by a curious static, like rain
on a window. He slowed down as they approached Taft,
let her spot the turn north onto the state road, and turned
into it. Almost at once a figure jumped out into the road in
front of them, waved his arms violently. Breen tromped on
the brake.
The man came up on the left side of the car, rapped on
the window; Breen ran the glass down. Then he stared
stupidly at the gun in the man's left hand. "Out of the car,"
the stranger said sharply. "I've got to have it." He reached
inside with his right hand, groped for the door lever.
Meade reached across Breen, stuck her little lady's gun
in the man's face, pulled the trigger. Breen could feel the
flash on his own face, never noticed the report. The man
looked puzzled, with a neat, not-yet-bloody hole in his up-
per lipthen slowly sagged away from the car.
"Drive onl" Meade said in a high voice.
Breen caught his breath. "Good girl"
"Drive on! Get rolling!"
They followed the state road through Los Padres Na-
tional Forest, stopping once to fill the tank from their cans.
They turned off onto a dirt road. Meade kept trying the
radio, got San Francisco once but it was too jammed with
static to read. Then she got Salt Lake City, faint but clear:
"since there are no reports of anything passing our radar
screen the Kansas City bomb must be assumed to have been