And small islands of twinkling stars, set in patterns and squares, with here and there a splotch of brightness.

And single stars that had somehow strayed and lay twinkling, lost in the great squares of dark green.
"We gotta make it before dark," Bland yelled.

"I been away a year.

I need daylight--" They gave her more gas, and Johnny became conscious of the motor's voice.

Eighty miles she was doing now, on a gentle incline that lifted the earth a little nearer.