| OCR Text |
Show Flying - 101 Died doing what he knew best. You Just bring on that steam drill. I'm ready. A big white Cadillac convertible shoots by the jeep with a roar and dives back in front of them to avoid an oncoming semi, making John Henry hit the brakes hard. Armstrong, who was looking back at the convoy, hits his head on a metal brace. Blonde hair flying in the viind, the girl in the Cadillac squeezes herself tight against the driver. "Fucking blonde whore," says Armstrong rubbing his head. A dark Ford sedan comes up behind them and John Henry, spotting it in the mirror and immediately remembering Black Gert, tightens his hands on the wheel, but the Ford passes them and goes on, four men in it. John Henry edges forward to let some air pass between his back and the hot plastic seat. The heat is very bad and his shirt is wet. He puts his left arm out into the wind to let air travel up the sleeve and cool him. He lifts his leg to get cool air under his thigh. Acrobatic John Henry making desperate efforts to get cool. He considers asking Wilberforce to hand him a canteen, but the man's a lieutenant and might be insulted. Or think it wasn't safe to drink water with one hand and drive with the other. John Henry wipes the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand and drives on toward the mountains. In the back seat Armstrong is still sulking, looking |
