The dump entrance was chained shut.
Cringle swore and smacked the steering wheel. “I am so sick of this pandemic shit.”
“So now what?”
“This is what. ” He popped the truck into reverse, spattering dirt and gravel against the city’s CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE sign. He slammed the shifter to drive and fishtailed up the rutted road.
Cringle reached down between his legs and pulled up a can of beer, opened it one-handed and gunned it down in one swallow.
He crushed the can and threw it out the window. “Keep your eye peeled for a side road,” he grinned.