“Turn right and continue for two miles.”
Bud eyed the dashboard suspiciously. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?”
“Recalculating,” purred the strangely erotic feminine voice of the truck. “In zero point three miles, turn left.”
“Left?” asked Bud. “I thought you said right?”
“NAVIGATE OFF ROAD!”
Bud jumped at the sudden command barked by the truck. He yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, sending his truck careening down the side of a steep, heavily foliaged embankment. Breaking through the trees, the truck spun and screeched to a stop in a parking spot at his destination. Shaking, Bud eyed the scattered mail that had come to rest in the footwell of the passenger seat. Among the letters was one from Garmin labeled Recall Notice.
“Heh heh heh,” said the truck. “We’re here.”