Rocks, at least large ones were in short supply, but the seats they'd removed from the van worked just as well as fulcrums for their levers and props for the jacks.  It took a lot of work, a lot of sweat and a little blood.  Adam at least had scraped up the knuckles on one hand, but they'd done it.  They'd flipped the damn thing.  He looked around at the four ladies stranded with him and felt a sense of pride and accomplishment.  Team.  He'd played football.  They were a team.<br/><br/>"We did it.  We fucking did it and with daylight to spare, too."<br/><br/>Not much, but a little.  "So, um, what next?  I'll drive the body off and lay him to rest.  My back seats are folded down.  Only room for one passenger.  Who will help me?"<br/><br/>He needed help.  They just had to dump the body and strip the clothes, not drag him anywhere, but he was still heavy enough that it would be a two person job.  It was the dirty job so he volunteered for it.  That let three others set up camp, but he'd need one helper.<br/><br/>Not that the other three could afford to be lazy.  The van was shelter enough to hold all of them, but the front windshield was also smashed in.  They'd have to rig something up to cover that to keep the cold out.  He had some ideas, but if felt like he was being bossy enough as it was.  Surely whoever stayed could seal the font window.  They had duct tape and plastic bags.  Although something a little more solid might be better.  Floormats?  He wanted to solve the problem, but he kept his mouth shut.  If they asked, he'd say something.