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Barbara spotted the post office beyond the intersection, far ahead and off to the left.
        We're going the wrong way.
        'Mr Wellen?'
        He didn't respond. Nor did he slow down as they rushed into La Cienega. Car horns blared. A Porsche bore in from the side, straight at Barbara. 'Look out!' Barbara yelled. 'Oh, Jeez!' Pete blurted.
        The Porche missed, passing behind them. Somebody's not obeying the… The traffic signals at the far corners of the intersection were dark, dead. No lights, and he's taking us… You're supposed to stop and wait your turn! 'Wellen!' Earl shouted.
        A moment later, they shot clear of La Cienega untouched. 'Stop the car!' Pete snapped.
        Wellen picked up speed, weaving from lane to lane. Heading east on Pico. East. Barbara jerked her head around to glance at the 'He's taking us the wrong way!'
        Earl reached over the seatback. He smacked Wellen on the shoulder. 'Hey! Turn us around!'
        'Don't touch me again, punk,' Wellen said.
        'Mr Wellen,' Barbara said. 'Please! You've got to turn around and take us back to school. We need to get there. Please.'
        'I'll get you back to school,' he said, still hunched and peering through the windshield's hole. 'Just quit your whining. I've gotta check up on my kid.’
        'Your kid?'
        'Yeah, my kid. My daughter.' His head jerked Barbara. A quick, fierce, hateful glare. Then he turned to his windshield hole. 'Nobody stops me. Don't even think about it.'
        'Oh, great,' Earl muttered. 'Terrific. So where the hell you dragging us, you lunatic?'
        'Shut your face,' Wellen said.
        'Where is your daughter?' Barbara asked, trying to be kind and sympathetic. 'Saint Joan's.’
        'What?’
        'Saint Joan's.'
        'What's that, a church?' Pete asked.
        'A school,' Wellen said. 'A Catholic girl's school.' He glanced again at Barbara. This time, his eyes didn't seem so mean.
        'What grade is she in?'
        'She's not in any grade. She's a teacher. Ninth English.'
        At Fairfax, he slowed down only a bit. He drove onto a sidewalk to get past a line-up of waiting cars, bounced down from the curb, hit the brakes to avoid broadsiding a pickup truck, then gunned the engine and sprinted for the other side as cars in the way swerved and honked. When Barbara could breathe again, she asked, 'How far away is that high school where your daughter works?’
        'We'll be there pretty soon.'
        'We won't get there at all if you kill us!' Pete yelled.
        A tear was sliding down Wellen's face, alongside his nose. 'It'll be all right,' Barbara told him.
        'It's such an old school,' he said. 'I think it's been reinforced to meet earthquake standards, but… Dear God, look at all this. How could Saint Joan's possibly still be standing after…' He shook his head. He was weeping outright, his face streaming.
        'We're all worried about our families,' Barbara told him.
        'They've gotta be worried about us, too. If they're not dead.
        Don't even think about that. Mom and Dad are fine. They're gotta be.
        'Your daughter's probably just fine,' she said. 'I don't know, don't know.’
        'Where is her school?' He sniffed.
        'On Pico.’
        'Where on Pico?’
        'Normandie.'
        'Normandie. Earl cried out. 'That's downtown. That's miles from here.'
        'I'll drive you back to Rancho Heights. Just as soon as I've picked up Katherine.'
        'You won't be able to drive us back,' Pete said 'I'll get you back. Don't worry.'
        'Just let us off here,' Barbara said. 'Just stop and let us out. We can walk back.'
        Sobbing, Wellen shook his head. 'Can't stop. Almost there.'
        'Almost there, my butt,' Earl said. 'STOP THE CAR' he shouted, and he leaned forward and swatted the side of Wellen's head. A hard smack. The car lurched to the left in the path of a gray