3 of a Kind by Rohan Gavin Page B

loosened her seat belt, switched on the radio, put her feet on the dashboard and powered down her window to enjoy the warm breeze. Knightley rolled his down too, draping one hand over the steering wheel and the other over the side of the door. West Coast hip hoppumped out of the stereo and the two of them nodded their heads in time.
    Then, without warning, both windows rose upwards, breaking the moment. Knightley and Tilly whipped their elbows in as the windows slid shut and the radio clicked off.
    ‘What did you press?’ Knightley accused her.
    ‘Nothing!’ she snapped.
    Darkus started pressing the rear window switches. ‘Dad, have you activated the child locks?’
    ‘I don’t think I have,’ Knightley responded.
    A warning tone pinged, accompanied by a cluster of red lights on the dashboard.
    ‘Something’s wrong with the car,’ moaned Tilly.
    Suddenly, the vehicle changed down a gear and lurched foward, speeding up.
    ‘Speed limit’s thirty-five,’ noted Darkus.
    ‘I’m aware of that, Doc.’ Knightley looked down to see the accelerator pedal lowering all by itself. ‘I think I might have selected cruise control …’
    The display on the satnav inexplicably changed to a different, more complex route. All three occupants did a double take.
    ‘That’s not the right way,’ Tilly pointed out.
    Knightley tapped the indicator and turned the steering wheel to pull over – but it wouldn’t budge.
    ‘I can’t … move … the wheel,’ he complained, then stepped on the brake, but it sunk to the floor with no effect.
    Darkus felt his catastrophiser thrum to life, its revs climbing in line with the car engine, whose speedometer needle was gaining steadily. ‘Tilly, fasten your seat belt,’ he instructed.
    The satnav chimed in with its robotic American accent. ‘Please sit back and en-joy the ride …’
    Knightley wrestled with the steering wheel, then the wheel began turning by itself. ‘What the –?’
    Darkus and Tilly began examining the car to find out what was controlling it.
    The satnav continued its stilted announcement: ‘The Com-bin-ation would like to extend a warm welcome to all three of you. But un-less you find a way to stop this ve-hicle, this is going to be a v-ery short trip.’
    ‘Look at the map,’ Darkus called out, pointing through the front seats to the display. ‘It’s heading for the ocean.’
    The satnav continued its speech. ‘Your move, Knight-leys.’
    Tilly stabbed the ignition button, but it was useless. ‘Something must be overriding the engine management system.’
    ‘Great. So what do we do about it?’ barked Knightley.
    The Dodge accelerated around a corner, throwing itsoccupants and their luggage from one side of the cabin to the other.
    ‘Have a safe jour-ney …’ the satnav concluded.
    ‘Try the handbrake!’ shouted Darkus.
    ‘I can’t find it,’ replied his dad. ‘And, for your information, it’s called a parking brake in this country.’
    ‘There –’ Tilly pointed to a small pedal at Knightley’s feet.
    Knightley stepped on it, but nothing happened. Then he pressed every button on the keyfob, but the car continued to gain speed. Knightley tossed the keyfob over his shoulder in frustration.
    Darkus watched their progress on the map display. ‘It says arrival time: three minutes.’ He glanced out at the scenery and got a sinking feeling, seeing an expanse of marshes and bluffs, and off in the distance … the Pacific Ocean. Darkus desperately ran his fingers over his chin, trying to deduce a solution, searching for any new hair to twiddle with, then it hit him: ‘The shaver … I need the shaver.’
    ‘He’s right,’ yelled Tilly jubilantly. ‘Thank the lord for Miss Khan. If we can send an electromagnetic pulse, we’ll fry the circuitry, shut down the whole vehicle. Where is it?’
    ‘In the boot,’ said Darkus guiltily. ‘Well, in this country it’s known as the trunk.’
    ‘Well, that’s just fan-tastic!’ screamed Tilly –