"Where are the keys?" Erin asked. She studied the empty place where the keys should have been inserted into the ignition. "Oh, is it one of those fob-activated types of vehicles?"

"Um...um..." Sara murmured. "Yes! Yes, that's right!"

Thank you, Erin, for coming up with an excuse.

The digital dashboard blinked on. Words flashed across the screen.

Autopilot temporarily disabled. Driver access fully granted.

The words blinked in bright green.

Erin stared at the screen with a confused look on her face. "Please tell me you know what that means." She tucked one of her braids behind her ears.

Sara closed her eyes. Relief flooded through her.

"It's fine," she told Erin.

Bentley got you under control, Rex! she thought, smiling. You can't mess around anymore.

"Care if I drive now?" Erin asked. She studied Sara with a worried expression.

"No problem," Sara said. After that driving escapade, there was no way Erin would let her drive anyway.

"Okay," Erin said. She climbed into the driver's seat.

Sara shifted over to the passenger side.

Erin guided the Jeep safely back onto the highway. They followed the GPS along the glittery streets of Miami until they reached the nightclub.

It wasn't hard to miss. A neon sign of a shark flashed the words, The Deep End. The shark's jaws bit into the word 'Deep', taking out a small chunk of the sign with its teeth.

"The Deep End, huh?" Trevor said. He tugged his werewolf costume back over his head. "This place looks pretty fishy if you ask me!"

The other boys burst out laughing.

Erin parked the Jeep. The place was packed.

"Hey, Sara. How do you shut this thing off?" Erin asked. She searched for the power off button.

Sara, thinking fast, waved her away. "Don't worry about it. I'll use the fob."

Erin rolled her eyes and hopped out of the Jeep.

"Power off," Sara whispered to the digital screen.

The Jeep's dashboard lights went dark.

Whew! It worked! Sara thought.

She hurried after the group as they made their way up to the dark building.

More neon lights flashed at the front entrance. A crowd of anxious partygoers waited impatiently in the very long line.

"How come they get to cut?" one of the guys near the front of the line shouted angrily.

Trevor, leading the way, grinned savagely at the kid. He marched confidently up to the bouncers. "I'm Trevor Martin. These are my friends. We're here for Christopher Columbus."

Sara recognized the code word for Trevor's famous uncle.

"Need to see all of your IDs," the bouncer growled.

The group passed up their licenses.

Sara felt somewhat sick as she pulled her license out to hand to Trevor. She was still reeling from her near-traffic incident.

The bouncer skimmed a list in his hands. It seemed everywhere they went required identification and a list! Seemingly satisfied, the bouncer handed Trevor back their IDs.

A second bouncer gave them each wristbands.

The bouncers gestured for the group to head inside.

As the doors opened, Sara could literally feel the vibrations of the bass reverberating inside.

A cold blast of air conditioning sent Sara's hair flying.

"Guys! This place is SICK!" Chad hollered. He disappeared into a thick blue mist inside the nightclub.