the smuggler’s bible

Burchard

The bus is listing to starboard. Nothing dramatic yet, but you must be vigilant. These sorts of things will get away from you. Burchard guides her gently down Montrose and uses the curve by the old courthouse to shed some speed. His gauges flutter gently, like newborn birds.

“Ah, dispatch, this is number sixteen on the blue line,” Burchard says into his radio, trying to keep his voice calm. “Got a little swerve in my swing, if you know what I mean.”

“We read you.”

“Please advise.”

“Cash in all your good karma, sixteen. That bus has got to roll.”