When Is The Best Time To Prune A Burning Bush

?) and it’s not like I was trying to hide or anything.

We’d been on the road for a few days now, and we were hauling ass across country, moving as fast as we could without getting caught by the cops. Like last night: we had just pulled out of some run-down neighborhood in Chula Vista—San Diego? I forget where exactly; maybe North County somewhere—around one o’clock this morning when Matt spotted something off to our right. It was a police car with its lights flashing, coming straight at us from way up ahead. We hit the brakes hard and kept going until the cop passed us going about fifty miles an hour, his siren screaming twenty feet behind him. He hung back for a while but then he came after us again with even more urgency than before. No telling how far he’d have gotten if Matt hadn’t flashed that badge at him with enough force that he slammed on his brakes so hard they nearly took our wheels off. The next thing we knew there was another car coming from behind us too with sirens blaring loud enough to wake all five hundred sleeping residents of San Ysidro flat out in their beds…and those are only half of them…but yeah, anyway…the bad guy driver turned around and started chasing after me down Highway 538 going eighty miles an hour! At least my pursuer wasn’t using any weapons or anything that might hurt innocent bystanders—not yet anyway—but I still