Guilt and fear rode alongside Heathcliff as he drove away from Sacramento, still bruised from the mugger's meaty fists, but the worst of his wounds healed. He was still sick from...who knows, who even cares, until he has enough blood to do something about it. He might have killed two different people tonight, had he not proved he was more stubborn than even the Beast had accounted for.
And that was just tonight. What will the thug remember tomorrow? Panic rising in his esophagus, he hangs his head out of the window, and the wind at sixty MPH is a balmy breeze compared to his jangling nerves.
The stench of various domesticated species sharing living quarters reaches him well before his headlights illuminate the sign to Happy Pony Petting Zoo. Heathcliff slows down as he drives past, but doesn't see any kind of security. He turns around, dims his lights, and creeps the vehicle through the entrance and parks.
((con't))