After walking out of the bar I decided to take a look at the engine of the rust bucket I was driving and was surprised to find a little black box with a red blinking light on it. “That bitch!” I yelled slamming the hood back down on the truck. I paced back and forth trying to decide what to do before I finally came up with an idea. Getting in the car I started on my way.

I drove south until I hit the border into Missouri then I started looking for the nearest car dealership. Pulling into what looked more like a junkyard with a few cars for sale I pulled in. A man in his early fifties walked out of the garage and up to me as I looked around at the cars he had for sale, but nothing was really catching my eye.

“Can I help you with anything miss?” the man asked coming to a stop at my side.

“Maybe, I’m looking for something fast, something that can get me where I need to go, but nothing out here is really catching my eye.” I said still surveying the cars.

“You won’t find anything like that here.” He started to say as I walked toward the edge of the parking lot as I noticed a car under a tarp.

“What’s under the tarp?” I asked as I got closer.

“Well that might fit your description, but it’s a bit out of most people’s budget.” He said pulling the tarp off of a 1969 Chevy Nova. With a price of $50,000 written in the window.

“How much do you want for it?” I asked studying the car with a critical eye. The body of the car was in one piece with minimal rust. The engine even started on the first try. “Do you mind?” I asked gesturing to the hood as I waited for his answer. The engine was a bit outdated, but it had been used for racing, the NOS hookup was still there. This engine was about eight years behind the times in terms of racing, but it would get me where I wanted to go with the added benefit of speed. While checking out the car I kept shaking my head with a frown on my face knowing he was watching me the whole time and when I finally put the hood back down and looked at him he answered.

“$30,000.” He stated crossing his arms over his chest.

“Drop the price three grand and you can have my truck.” I countered with a straight face.

“Deal.” He said sticking his hand out for me to shake. He walked back toward the office and I walked toward the truck. I counted out the right amount before making sure the truck was empty and walking into the office. I dropped the money and the keys on the counter signing off the title then signed the slip stating I bought the car with a fake name before grabbing the keys and getting in. I drove out of there feeling a bit bad. He was going to have cops swarming his place in no time, but by then I should be half way to California.