He worked methodically, sculpting the land around each car like a baker icing a cake, careful not to damage anything but firm enough to make sure no one could just drive away without serious effort—or better yet, a tow truck.
By the time the last furrow was cut, the field looked like a patchwork trap. The cars sat awkwardly in the middle of it all—boxed in by dirt, each one surrounded by loose, unstable soil too deep for a sedan or SUV to drive through without getting stuck.