Tough. Good thing the Hilux was one tough beast. It could take some abuse. Channing knew. It had already been driven into a few trees while she had run down raiders, been absent-mindedly parked in the middle of the lake, and could tough out a bit of fire (though Channing wasn’t sure if it had gotten rid of those insects), but that Japanese ENgineering always persevered, and the Hilux would always start up without fail.
Those flimsy windowframes? That would be like driving through wallpaper. In fact, this reminded her of one spectacular dinner gone horribly wrong. Before she got to order off the desert menu, Channing ended up running away from The Stig’s scary larger American cousin, and had unfortunately shred his up his BBQ shack while making her escape. Her Hilux was, of course, unscathed.
Blinking away thoughts about intimidating white Simpson helmets, Channing eyed the berm, revving up the engine, ready to drop the clutch for maximum acceleration. Sure, Channing wasn’t quite sure what was outside of the window, but she never did think too far ahead with this much adrenaline pumping in her veins.
Skeet shooting was all fun and good, but if things went south…
–that jump was totally doable.
Bring it on.
