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Something happens to my hands. My wrists get tight. I brace for another bout of rigor, but it’s not like that. My arms stretch and my head falls back.

Soon, I see something, which is strange for a void. And what I see is even stranger than that.

It’s a palm tree.

I didn’t expect to see one of those in nothingness. I mean, if there are trees, it kind of defeats the whole concept of nothingness.

Someone slaps me. I’m sure of it.

“Stop yammering,” a woman says.

There are palm trees and women here? Things are looking up for nothingness.

Someone slaps me again.

I say, “Where are you?”

“I’m right in front of you, you nitwit,” she says. “Your eyes closed again.”

I open them and she was telling the truth. She’s right there.

Mustang Sally, the highway sylph. The queen of the roads. Wherever there’s a path, a track, or a rut around here, Sally is there watching over it.

“Sally. What are you doing here?”

With one hand, she pulls me the rest of the way out of the hole.

“Saving your ridiculous life,” she says. Then she gets a good look at me. “Oh dear. I’d heard that Hell had aged you, but I didn’t expect this.”

“Who said Hell aged me?”

“People. Spirits. Agents of the road. I hear it all.”

Sally always looks like she’s on her way to the best parties. She’s dressed in an all-black iridescent floor-length gown. Even on the filthy road, not a speck of dust sticks to her.

I look into the hole.

“How long are your arms? I was falling for like an hour.”

She sees I’m wobbly, so she gives me the cane and pushes me against the guardrail. Even with that, I can’t stand up anymore. I slide down to a sitting position on the ground.

“You were falling for a second or two,” she says. “And you were only down about an inch.”

“Still, you’re really strong.”

Sally makes a face, watching the cars go by. Some honk at her. She waves to them.

I look around. There’s a silver Bugatti Chiron parked a few yards away. The right front fender is crumpled.

I point.

“You broke your car.”

“That’s life on the road. Do you like it? It’s tribute from someone who owes me more than a car could pay. I’ll return it to him tomorrow so he can get me another.”

“Sorry if this sounds uncivilized, but why did you save me just now?”

She looks at her nails.