100 Words a Day 398

The rest stop parking lot was crowded with cars of all types. Zack maneuvered their old Civic through the tangle of vehicles before parking between a sickly, tan RV and a green pickup. They all got out, Zack and Michelle to get sandwiches and Mike to look at the map. He was stepping into the road when a car roared by. He leapt back like a startled deer, landing between a black sedan and an old, white convertible. He watched as the oblivious driver screeched into a recently vacated parking spot, their bumper crunching as it hit the concrete barrier.