Oh fuck it's not gonna park at the intersection is it, she needs it to match her speed - she waves at it energetically and makes exaggerated "come-along" gestures as she rockets through the air - 

The fuck?  Does she need them to keep going somewhere?  Yeah, okay, sure, they can - follow Parry?  They match her speed, because they don't want to run into her or to lose her.

All right, perfect.  Take it down slow, try to come down on top of the bed of the pickup truck.  Anyone there to take the car seat from her?  Or does she have to try to negotiate it into the backseat.  Or just set it down in the empty bed.

After some incredulous staring and gesticulating from the DRT ops in the truck's cab, one of them climbs out the back window, into the bed of the truck.  The rest of the conversation is shouted.

"Here, lemme get that for you!"  He reaches for the carseat, with BOTH HANDS.

Yes!  Good!  She'd love for someone to be holding onto this thing with both hands!  Here you go!

"The mom's still in the car!" she yells back.  "How fast can you drive this thing?"

"Uh, eighty on a freeway, this ain't a freeway!  Sixty?  Can't you you just land?"  Indeed, the vehicle is jostled a bit by damaged roadways.  The mechanics will be making some pretty good-sized boat payments after this incident.

Can she turn off her flight without actually slowing down so she just drops into the back of the truck - yes - 

"Her car's getting away, I don't want to lose her, and if I pick her up and stop in midair I'd give her whiplash - these dungeon cars are doing a lot more than sixty - "

Fucking espers, fucking no failsafes...  "This is what we got - can you grab her and circle back to us?  We'll take it on a straightaway, get as fast as possible?"  Before the mom gets away from us.

Can she circle back around, she doesn't think she can bank properly but by degrees maybe - "I'm on it."  She takes off.

A riddle, if you will.  What beats the ability to break the land speed record and corner like a death-indifferent savant in the zone?

The ability to fly like a death-indifferent savant in the zone.  It's not exactly difficult to catch up to a very familiar OTTO! with a dinged-up rear door.

Beautiful.  Does Georgia see her coming?

Georgia does not.  She's currently curled up in the backseat and trying to forget about the fact that she exists.

It's not going very well for her.

She knocks on the window.

Georgia startles!  She doesn’t jump a foot in the air, but that’s mostly down to the seatbelt.  When she sees Parry, she quickly unbuckles and rolls down the window.

Oh right, rolling down windows.  "I can take you to the DRT pickup with your kid," she calls, over the wind.  "Can you climb out through the window or do you need the door open?"

Yeah, they should have started with that.  "I can climb out, the child seat just wouldn't fit.  I'm ready when you are."  And by ready I mean I think I'm about to literally pee myself.

"All right - " she holds out her hands.

Georgia is actually going to tremble like a leaf for a few seconds.  She's climbing out of her car going god only knows how fast.  Well, God and the speedometer.  But she's refusing to even acknowledge the existence of the speedometer because ignorance is bliss.

But she reminds herself that she is not going to let Joan get lost in some Godawful system if it kills her.  And that thought is enough to get her out of the vehicle at a cool ninety-eight point seven miles per hour, into the arms of a complete and total stranger.

"Gotcha," she says.  Support her with one arm, press her head into the crook of the neck with the other to hopefully make the whiplash not as bad.  "Wrap your arms and legs around me, tight as you can."

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

She does it, with enough strength to bruise.

Yeah that's about how she feels!

Okay.  If she just cuts her speed in half god knows what's gonna happen to Georgia - she can't do a literal circle but she can trace out a many-sided shallow-angled polygon - support her neck - does she have enough clearance to turn around and fly the other way down the road - maybe, but she's never done this before and she's being very conservative with turns, if there's a less stupid way to turn while carrying somebody she doesn't know it - 

- she already made one turn, catching up to the car, might as well just follow the road back around and merge back onto Market.  Up high above the traffic so she doesn't RUN INTO ANY FUCKING STREET SIGNS.  She knows San Diego streets.  She can do this.

"I gotcha," she says.

Well, the DRT truck is at the promised meetup spot.  It's cruising around at 30 MPH, but they have the former DRT passenger riding in the back of the pickup.  He's tied off to a piece of equipment in the back, which isn't completely unlike a seatbelt.  When he sees Parry coming, he bangs twice on the back of the windshield, and the truck revs up and takes off.

If she could read the narration she would say something like, do you really think noted shiftless delinquent dyke Parry Thompson is going to blink at someone sitting in the bed of a pickup truck without a seatbelt, but merely seeing a guy strapped in like so is not sufficient to inspire her to start insulting herself in her internal monologue.  She alights not particularly gently in the bed of the pickup with Georgia and the DRT goon.  "Just these two, car's empty."  Her backlash is pretty much sated by being in the back of a pickup; she keeps her eyes on the scenery racing by.

Georgia is, unless physically restrained, going to half-dive half-crawl into the front of the pickup, which in turn is going to make for a parking lot a few miles down the road.

"Ma'am, I don't recognize you and couldn't find you in Racehorse.  What name do you work under?"

Uuuuuuugh.

"Nitro," she says, out of thin air.  "I'm new, I'm not in anything.  And I gotta get home now that she's rescued."