I
Butch drove a classic Chevy Bel Air, one of those old school convertibles, pitch black in color. The car was illegal of course, no one was allowed to own a private vehicle in the city, but Butch told me that no one dared to take on the Bel Air; it was much faster than any cop car. He pressed on the accelerator, the motor roared into the night as we rolled towards Creekwell City.
