THE GLORY BUS 13 страница

Duke floored the gas pedal. The car roared along the track in total darkness. Couldn’t see nothing but flitting shapes in the starlight at either side.

Then Duke took his hands off the wheel. Placed them behind his head.

Gazed forward just like he was the passenger.

Not the driver of this budget sedan hurtling along a dirt road.

That was when Dee-Dee and Norman shouted.

‘Hey, what you think you’re doing! ’

‘You’ll kill us all! ’

‘Duke, get your hands back on the wheel! ’

‘You crazy fuck! ’

Boots turned back to laugh at the pair in the back seat. ‘Serves you right for being rude to me. ’

‘Boots, make him steer! ’

Both Duke and Boots laughed and whooped. They slapped the car roof with their hands. Duke switched on the car radio.

A country-and-western song jangled out.

Shit, Norman thought. That’s the song I’m gonna hear as I die.

I hate country and western.

Boots and Duke sang along, adding cowboy yodels.

The mad fucks.

Dee-Dee moaned.

Fainted.

Leaning sideways against Norman.

‘Duke! You mad sonofabitch! ’

Duke swiveled back so that both of his hands rested on the top of his seat. ‘Norman. Your lack of faith disappoints. Ain’t that right, Boots? ’

‘Right, Duke. ’

‘Yah think you’ve got me down as this cretin. ’ The car sped on. Sixty? Seventy miles an hour?

And here was Duke, acting like the car was on autopilot or something.

‘You underestimate me, Normy, old buddy. That makes me sad. Cos I’ve done so much to educate you in the ways of the world. To change the boy to a man. ’

‘Duke, steer the fucking car. Please, Duke. ’

Norman felt like fainting too. Dee-Dee was a dead weight against him.

‘Now here’s another fact, ’ Duke told him. ‘Dirt tracks like this always have deep ruts from where tractors and combine harvesters have gone backward, forward, backward, forward for years—’

‘Duke. In the name of God, please put your hands back on the steering wheel. ’

‘—So they act like rails on a railroad. The car’s wheels lock into the ruts. The ruts steer the car. Comprende, amigo? ’

Norman could only stare at Duke’s grinning face there in the gloom.

Any second the car’s gonna flip out.

Then we’ll be dead.

Norman sweated.

Sweated rivers of perspiration down his chest.

And all he could see was Duke grinning at him like a demon.

‘I trust Duke, Normy. He won’t crash us into nothin’. See? The car’s running like God’s steerin’ it. ’

After what seemed a long, lo

ng time, Duke shook his head. Then, still smiling, he turned back to the business of driving the car. He slowed it. Put his hands on the steering wheel.

Norman sagged down in the back seat with a massive sigh. His muscles were locked hard with tension.

It would take a while to relax.

A long while.

Duke said matter-of-factly, ‘I’ve lost the cops. It’s time we found a highway. ’

Chapter Twenty-nine

‘Midnight, ’ Lauren said as she locked the cafe door.

‘The witching hour. ’ Pamela stood with her hands in her apron pockets, making sure that no one saw the oblong bulge of the diary.

‘Couldn’t have put it better, ’ Lauren said. ‘Oooh, look at the sky. You know, you don’t appreciate how bright the stars are until you see them out in the desert. ’

Pamela looked up at the display of shining stars. ‘Awesome, ’ she agreed. ‘And it’s so wonderfully cool after being in the diner. ’

‘It was sizzling today. And you did marvelously. ’

‘My pleasure. ’ Pamela smiled.

‘Remember, if you want that waitressing job it’s yours. ’

Pamela opened her mouth to speak.

‘No, don’t decide now. Let me know in the morning. ’

‘Thanks. ’

‘We did real good business today. I’ll see you get your share of the tips come Saturday. ’

‘Oh, there’s no—’

‘Hush. You’ve earned it. The place was a furnace tonight. ’ Lauren walked alongside Pamela as they strolled across the parking lot. The chill desert air was as refreshing as a glass of cold champagne. ‘And if you decide to join us we’ll agree a fair wage. You get accommodation, too. ’

‘That’s a generous package. I really do mean it. ’

‘What we’re short of is glamorous night life. What we’re not short of is peace and plenty of quiet. ’ Lauren paused, looking down the road that appeared as a gray strip in the starlight. In this eerie ghost light her face, which was bony and hollow-cheeked at the best of times, could have been the face of an ancient Red Indian warrior.

‘Lauren, what’s wrong? ’

‘I was just wondering about Sharpe. ’

‘He drove out in his bus today, didn’t he? ’

‘Hmm, looking for more people to save. ’

‘How long will he be gone? ’

‘You never know with Sharpe. Days. A week. ’

‘You miss him, don’t you? ’

Lauren sighed. ‘Sure do. But that’s the nature of Walter Sharpe. ’

‘His mission? ’

‘Yeah. . . ’ Lauren’s forest-green eyes were far away. Then: ‘Come on, it’s getting late. ’

They walked across the lot by the assortment of cars, trucks, vans and a motorcycle or two.

Never struck me as being so odd, Pamela thought. That parade of abandoned vehicles.

But in the light of those shoeboxes in the utility room. Crammed with pens, spectacles, false teeth, car keys. . .

Where did all those cars come from?

In the meager light they looked like sleeping beasts.

How easy is it to lose your car keys and eyeglasses?

Surely a darn sight easier than losing your truck?

You don’t simply forget to climb in and drive away after eating a Pitsburger, do you now? You don’t walk off along that desert road thinking: ‘I’m sure I’ve forgotten something important. ’

At Pamela’s trailer she and Lauren said their good nights, then went their separate ways. Pamela let herself into the trailer. It still held the heat of the day. She was grateful to bathe in the warm air. Outside it had suddenly seemed too cold.

Too chilling.

Rodney’s just walked over my grave.

Not funny.

She closed the door behind her. Drew a bolt. Then pulled the diary from her apron pocket. She had a feeling that the contents of the little book wouldn’t be funny either.

Pamela showered, relishing the pummeling jets of warm water. After the fried-meat smells of the diner the scent of the strawberry shampoo felt pretty good, too. After drying herself she slipped on a long T-shirt that she was using as a nightshirt.

Then she went into the trailer’s kitchen where she poured herself a glass of cold milk and took it into the lounge where she’d left the boy’s diary on the coffee table.

She remembered the words in a child’s hand on the first page: Benny Loscoff, age 10 (and last will and testy mint).

Testy mint.

Clearly, he meant ‘testament’. But why would a child write their will in a diary?

Does this form part of the equation when you add in the boxes of personal effects in the utility room, plus the row of vehicles – new as well as old – abandoned in the cafe’s lot?

Pamela took a sip of milk. Cold and creamy, just how she liked it.

Settling down into the sofa, she opened up the diary and began to read.

My name is Benny. This is what happened to me and my bud, Gyp, when we ran away from summer camp.

As she took another sip of milk she heard the gasp of air brakes. Opening the drapes by a fraction of an inch she took a peek out. Sharpe’s bus had pulled into the lot. The door opened. Out stepped what appeared to be a young guy with a mass of curly hair.

Too dark to see properly. But he seemed hunched forward.

Tired? Hurt?

Pamela didn’t know.

Sharpe left the bus next. He always walked upright. Almost like a Marine, proud of his uniform and his flag, ready for parade. He closed the bus’s door behind him, said something to the curly-haired guy who nodded. Then they both went round the far side of the diner.

She watched for a moment; they didn’t come back.

Pamela let the drapes fall back into place. Took a moment to make sure that there were no chinks through which anyone on the outside could peer in.

I’m getting paranoid.

No one’ll care if they see me reading a kid’s diary.

Or am I developing a heightened sense of self-preservation?

Shoot.

She shivered. Opened the diary.

Began to read.

My name is Benny Loscoff. This is what happened to me and my bud, Gyp, when we ran away from summer camp. Mabley and his gang was going to pound us because we told Mr. Taylor about what they did with the snake. We snuck out before sunup and took the bus to Vegas. Only the bus broke down, so me and Gyp ran into the desert because the driver said we didn’t look old enough to be traveling by ourselves to Vegas, which he called Sin City. And that there were women downtown that kiss guys for money.

Anyway me and Gyp ducked off into the desert so we couldn’t be taken back to summer camp.

Pamela took a swallow of milk. It stroked a cold pathway down her throat. She glanced at the next pages of the diary. Benny Loscoff talked a lot about trying to catch birds to eat – with no success. And getting thirstier and thirstier until they couldn’t walk any further.

That was when the bus pulled up on the desert road.

A bus full of mannequins.

A bus driven by Sharpe.

The diary continued with an account of the two boys staying in a trailer in Pits. How they helped out at the diner and played in the abandoned cars in the lot. And that an old guy who looked like a prospector was going to show them the old mine workings. They were looking forward to that.

Then the diary came to an abrupt end.

Pamela read the words scrawled across the page. Words scrawled in a hurry.

THEY MADE GYP BURGERS! AND THE OLD GUY SAID THEY’RE GOING TO MAKE SAUSAGE OUT OF ME!

Chapter Thirty

Duke was still driving at sunup.

Driving south. When you need to flee, he’d told them, flee south. So he pushed the sedan hard along Oregon’s roads in the direction of California.

‘California? ’ Dee-Dee had said as she woke up in the back seat to the sight of a passing road sign. ‘LA or San Francisco? �

�

‘Neither, ’ Duke said. ‘When you lie low you take yourself off to wilderness country. ’

‘I thought you said you should drive south? ’ Norman asked from the back seat of the car.

‘Yup. South into wilderness country. ’

Boots awoke with a stretch and a yawn in the front passenger seat. ‘Gee, I’m hungry and thirsty. ’

‘We’re gonna refuel soon, ’ Duke said. ‘Us and the car. ’

‘The cops will be looking for a gray sedan, ’ Dee-Dee pointed out. ‘They’ll have the license plate. ’

‘No sweat. ’ Duke drove one-handed, scratching his stubbled chin. ‘We ditch the car, pick up a new one. ’

‘Oh, shit, ’ Norman said remembering the last time.

He saw that Boots was looking back at Dee-Dee. Probably getting a good look at the nurse’s uniform for the first time in the daylight.

That uniform.

Oh, boy. Still looked cool, crisp and very sexy to Norman.

Maybe Boots is finding it sexy, too.

She’s hinted that she’s seduced women, hasn’t she?

Dee-Dee was very beautiful in a dark, pixie way. Come to think of it, that sharply defined hairstyle is short as a boy’s, so maybe—

‘Quit staring at Dee-Dee’s boobs, Normy. ’

Norman flushed. ‘I wasn’t. ’

‘You were, too, ’ Duke said. ‘Saw you in the mirror. ’

‘And we can all guess what you were thinkin’, too, ’ Boots said with a smirk.

‘Ah ha. Busted, Normy boy. ’

‘Norman wouldn’t be the first man to stare at a woman in a nurse’s uniform, ’ Dee-Dee said with a smile that was somehow prim and sexy all at the same time.

What happens if we stop at a motel again? Dee-Dee and Boots lying side by side in a big motel bed. Giggling. Inviting me to join them.

Uh. . . Something stirred in Norman’s underpants.

‘You look uncomfortable there, bud. ’

Norman noticed Duke watching him in the rearview.

‘I’m fine, ’ Norman grunted.

‘Don’t look that way to me. Looks like you’re sitting on something hard. ’

‘Just keep watching the road, huh? ’

‘Ohhh, Normy boy, that’s no way to speak to your best bud. ’

Norman folded his arms and looked out at the passing scenery. There were hills. Forests. A lake beneath a perfect blue sky.

Felt hotter. Maybe they weren’t far from California now?

The air smelled of pine.

Boots shuffled her butt until she sat almost looking back at Dee-Dee. Her piggy eyes kept sweeping up and down Dee-Dee’s slender bod.

‘Had enough of nursing? ’ Boots asked.

‘Not really. ’

‘Why come with us, then? ’

‘Heat of the moment. ’

‘Must have been a hot moment. ’

‘I was sick of the motel. It was my salary that kept it going. ’

‘Sounds like a major responsibility, ’ Duke observed.

‘It was. ’

‘So you decided to skip? ’

‘Yes. ’

Duke glanced back at her. ‘How do you propose to pay for the ride? ’

‘Pay? ’

‘Gas don’t come free, y’know. ’

‘You stole the car in the first place. ’

‘’S mine now. ’

‘There’s a kind of logic there, ’ Dee-Dee said with a sigh.

‘So how you gonna pay your fare? ’

‘You’ve got something in mind? ’

‘Sure do. ’

‘Okay, then. Let’s get it over with. ’ Dee-Dee sighed again and rolled her eyes. ‘Here will do. ’

‘Hey. . . ’ Norman protested. ‘She can ride with us if she wants. ’

‘Course she can, ’ Boots said. ‘Gotta pay the driver, though. It’s only right. ’

Duke pulled over to the side of the road, then ran the car onto the dirt and under some overhanging bushes.

‘Shit, ’ Norman said. ‘I don’t believe this. ’

‘Jealous, Norm? ’

‘No, but—’

Dee-Dee hissed, ‘Deal with it. I’ve been screwed over the motel for years. ’ Norman saw impatience in her eyes at his slowness when she added a weary ‘Figuratively. ’

‘Oh. ’

‘So taking a porking in return for my freedom from a whole heap of debt isn’t going to hurt, is it now? ’

‘Oh, I. . . Ah. . . ’ Norman didn’t know what to say.

They were out of sight of any passing traffic here. Duke opened the driver’s door.

‘My apologies, ma’am, for there not bein’ a bed or nothin’. ’

‘It’s okay by me. ’

Norman felt his face burning as he opened the back door.

‘Where ya goin’, Normy? ’

‘I thought you. . . well. . . thought you might want to make use of the back seat. ’

‘Very considerate of you, Norman, ’ Duke said politely. ‘But we haven’t got time for that. ’

‘Your call, ’ Dee-Dee said. ‘You’re doing me a favor taking me to a new life, so name your pleasure. ’

Dear God, Norman thought. Dee-Dee’s beautiful. It should have been me.

Duke unbuckled his belt. ‘You just pop yourself round here. No time for a regular screwin’ so I thought you could practice your microphone technique. ’

Norman frowned. Microphone technique? Oh, my dear Lord. Does Duke mean what I think he means?

Norman watched Dee-Dee get out of the car. She smoothed the crisp uniform down over the swell of her breasts and her hips.

Jeez, that dress is short.

He looked at her slender bare legs. Wow. . . her delicate fingers. The swanlike neck.

Boots leaned forward. Her piggy face was a picture of excitement.

She was gonna watch?

Duke was gonna let her watch?

Norman gave a polite cough. ‘Uh, Boots. Maybe we should step out of the car and give these two some privacy. ’

‘Shit, man. ’ Duke shook his head. ‘No time for that. If the pair of you wanna watch, then watch. Don’t bother me. ’

Boots’s eyes flashed as an erotic burn flamed through her. ‘Hey, Norman, lean forward next to me. You can see better. ’

‘I don’t want to see better. ’ His voice rose in a protesting squeal.

Norman closed his eyes and clamped the palms of his hands over his ears. See nothing. Hear nothing.

Norman felt sick.

Am I revolted that Duke’s demanded sex for driving Dee-Dee to California?

Or am I sick with jealousy?

He loosened his hands a little. . . just enough to hear Boots breathe, ‘Normy. You gotta watch this. You won’t believe your eyes. ’

Norman couldn’t bear it. He pressed his hands back so hard against his ears that all he could hear was the sound of his own blood pumping through the arteries to his brain.

He tried not to picture what Dee-Dee might be doing to Duke. Even so. . .

Norman had to adjust himself. His shorts were binding. His heart beat faster.

Then, moments later. . .

The whole car shuddered.

‘Sweet Lord on high! ’ Duke’s sudden shout made it through Norman’s hands clamped against his ears. Dear God, what’s happened there in the front seat?

It was a while before Norman could bring himself to uncover his ears, open his eyes.

Dazed, Norman saw that Dee-Dee was now standing by the car. Her skin was flushed.

‘Thank you, ma’am. ’ Duke zippered up.

‘Pleasure’s all mine. ’ She licked her lips. ‘I could use a drink of soda. ’

‘Sure didn’t look like thirsty work, ’ Boots said, grinning.

Dee-Dee ran her tongue round inside her mouth as if checking that her teeth were all still in place. Then she said, ‘All the same, a drink would be nice. ’

Duke pulled his door shut, then nodded back through the open window. ‘There’s some sodas in the trunk. Grab one before we go. ’

He pulled the trunk-release lever. Watched Dee-Dee in the rearview mirror as she pulled out a can of orangeade. She slammed down the trunk lid.

That was when Duke started the motor. Floored the pedal.

Left Dee-Dee staring at a cloud of dust preceded by a departing sedan.

‘Hey! ’ Norman shouted. ‘Wait! What’re you leaving her behind for? ’

Boots laughed a wet gurgling laugh.

Duke made one shoulder shrug. ‘Didn’t she look wacky to you? ’

‘No! ’

Boots was still laughing as she looked back through the rear window at the diminishing figure of Dee-Dee. ‘Aw, no fair. I thought she’d try and run after us. ’

Norman glanced back to catch one last look at Dee-Dee as she stood there with a can of orange soda in her hand.

‘Cooee! Bye-bye, Dee-Dee! ’ Boots waved.

Duke said, ‘Good mouth. ’

Norman groaned, ‘Oh, God. ’

An hour later they traded the sedan for a yellow SUV. Driving along a twisting backwoods road, they came across a solitary guy fishing by a lake. The SUV sat a few yards behind him on a swathe of dry earth.

No other traffic.

No people.

Duke pulled up. Sauntered across to the fisherman who didn’t even look up as he dozed in the hot sun.

Duke slipped the blade into the back of the man’s neck. Norman climbed out of the sedan with Boots who ran forward to throw the guy’s rods and tackle into the lake. Duke rolled the body across the ground with his foot until gravity took hold and the corpse tumbled down the bank into the lake.

Ripples spread across calm water.

A red stain started spreading, too.

Norman heard Boots say, ‘As the guy rolled into the lake he farted. ’

Duke was disgusted. ‘In front of a lady, too. Some people’ve got no manners. ’

Norman said, ‘You did remember to take the car keys out of the guy’s pocket? ’

‘Shoot. ’

‘Duke, what a dumbfuck thing to do. ’

‘Best get them before he drifts too far out, Normy. ’

‘No way! ’

Norman watched the stabbed corpse. It farted again, bloody bubbles popping up between the guy’s legs.

‘Norman. We need the keys. Go fetch. ’

‘No way! I’m fucking sick of you giving me orders

! ’

Boots stuck out her bottom lip. She looked as if she was going to cry. ‘Don’t get mad at Duke. He’s been drivin’ all night. He’s wore out. ’

‘Wore out? Pumped out, more like. I mean, what the hell did you leave Dee-Dee behind for, Duke? What kind of dumbfuck trick was that? ’

‘I told you. She was a flake. ’

‘Jesus H. Christ. ’

‘Best get the keys, Normy. If the guy keeps blowin’ gas like that he’s gonna lose buoyancy. ’

‘I’m not going in there, Duke. It’s your fucking idiot mistake. You get the keys! ’

‘Are you disprectin’ me, bud? ’

‘Disrespecting you! Of course I am, you dumb fuck. ’

‘Please, Norman. ’ Boots’s eyes watered. ‘Don’t fight with Duke. ’

‘If he used that brain of his for once, he—’

Duke struck.

And, boy, did he know how to strike.

The blow landed under Norman’s chin. This was pain the like of which he’d never felt before. He went spinning to land on his butt.

Duke, there’s no need to fight. We can resolve our differences by discussing them.

The words that Norman planned to say drowned in the blood that filled his mouth. He climbed to his feet but stayed bent over at the waist. He marveled at the pretty patterns the spots of red were making on the dry earth.

‘Oh, poor Norman, ’ Boots cooed.

Duke walked smartly forward. Then rained more punches into Norman’s face. This time Norman crashed backward like falling timber. Once more he started to climb to his feet.

Only made it as far as his knees.

Boots wiped away a tear. ‘Poor Normy. What a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into. ’

Pickle!

Duke stepped up to the line again. This time he delivered a savage kick that sent Norman rolling as far as the road like a soccer ball.

Norman was past speaking.

Nevertheless he held up his hand.

Enough already.

I’ve had enough.

Norman figured the hand gesture would be clear enough to anyone. Groggy with pain he looked up.

Duke looked down.

Face impassive. Stone-like. Eyes hard.

Then Duke swung back his motorcycle boot.

Norman groaned.

This time the full-blooded kick slammed into the side of Norman’s head. That was the mother of all pain.

The sky turned black.

Then the whole world.

Dimly, far away, Norman heard his mother’s voice. ‘Norman? Didn’t I always tell you not to give lifts to strangers? ’

No shit.

Was this his moment of dying?

What he’d done over the last forty-eight hours would take some explaining to God. But then He’d have seen everything already, wouldn’t he?

The sex with Boots.

The cop-slaying.

The old guy at the house with the wife in the deep-freeze.

Shit. Those dead cops would be waiting for him in heaven. Even being dead wouldn’t save him from having the crap kicked out of him. He could imagine them smiling as they pulled out their batons. They were gonna kick his sorry ass all over heaven.

Heaven?

Hell!

Satan wants me for a moonbeam.

Norman’s thoughts disintegrated as his mind sank deeper into unconsciousness.

Maybe gonna sink so deep I’m never coming back up. . .

Chapter Thirty-one

When Norman woke he was being hit all over again.

No fists.

Brilliant sunlight that felt like a steel spike was being driven into each eye.

Uh. . .

Least I’m not dead.

Yet.

But that light alone was punchy enough to hurt.

‘Lie still. ’

That was Boots.

‘Lie still, will you? I’m putting a sticking plaster on your eye. ’

‘Uh. I’m sore. ’ Norman winced. ‘All over. ’

‘You should see yourself. Your face is a mess. ’

‘Thanks. I feel better for knowing that. ’

‘Duke broke you up real bad. ’

Norman squinted up at Boots as she leaned over him. Couldn’t see much more than her porky silhouette. The sun blazed behind her head.

‘Where is Duke? ’

Norman was suddenly aware of unpleasant possibilities.

Duke’s digging a shallow grave?

Boots shrugged, then spoke in that vague (and more than a little stupid) voice of hers. ‘Oh. Around. ’

‘The fisherman. We need to get away from the lake. ’

‘We are away from the lake. ’

‘Uh? ’

‘Sit up, Normy, take a look-see. ’

Sitting was hurting. Royal hurting.

‘If you see a lake I’ll somersault bare-assed for you. ’

Norman realized that he was lying in the back of a pickup truck on bales of newspaper that formed a mattress. A tarp had been pulled to one side.

Something tells me I’ve been riding in the back all covered up like a baby.

Maybe Duke doesn’t want to kill me after all. Or maybe he’s just saving me to hurt for fun later.

Duke’s the kind of guy who really knows how to inflict pain.

Boots kneeled beside Norman on the bales. As she leaned forward he saw the sway of her breasts inside her top.

She saw that he was looking.

‘From the way you’re looking at my boo-boos it shows that Duke hasn’t busted your eyeballs. ’

‘Sorry. ’

‘I’m the one who’s gonna be sorry when men stop admiring my goodies. Well? ’

‘Well, what? ’

‘Are you gonna sit up or just lie there? ’

‘I’m trying. It hurts like hell. ’

With a sigh as if she was being inconvenienced like you wouldn’t believe, Boots helped Norman to sit.

‘Ah, my fucking back! ’

‘A twinge? ’

Norman grunted. ‘No, I just like screaming out names of body parts for the hell of it. ’

‘Who’s woke up in a grumpy mood, then? ’

‘I took a wee bit of damage, you know? ’

Boots fluffed her spiky bleached hair. ‘None of it’s lasting. And before you ask, I checked your John Thomas and his two sons. They’re all fine. ’

‘Thanks. ’ He grimaced.

The idea of Boots fiddling with his genitals while he was unconscious. . .

Dear God.

At last Norman managed to sit upright in the back of the truck.

‘What happened to the SUV? ’

‘We’ve traded in a couple of times since then. The cops are hunting hard for us, you know. We heard it on the radio. ’

‘Oh, Christ. ’

‘Duke phoned them to tell them they’re wasting their time. He says the only time a cop will lay a finger on him is when he’s breathed his last. ’

‘Oh, Jesus Christ. ’ Norman managed to focus on his surroundings. ‘Holy shit. ’

‘Yeah. ’ Boots looked round. ‘Looks kinda funny, don’t it? ’

‘Where in hell are we? ’

For the first time since he woke he forgot about the orchestra of pain playing the Agony Overture all over his body.

‘This is desert. . . fucking desert! ’

He blinked. A blazing sun beat down on sand dunes. A straight desert road stretched ahead and behind.

No vehicles.

Heat haze rippled Joshua trees so that they looked like drunken men dancing. Beyond sand, desert shrubs and mesquite trees lay a ridge of strangely red mountains.

And the heat, this fucking heat. . .

‘The motherfucker’s brought us to Death Valley. ’

‘Don’t be silly, Normy. This ain’t Death Valley. ’

‘Damn well looks like it. ’

‘We’ve already driven through Death Valley. This is Furnace Creek. ’

‘We’r

e in California? ’

Boots nodded, smiling. ‘After your disagreement with Duke you slept all the way. ’

‘Slept? Beaten unconscious. Half fucking dead. ’

‘Norman, that’s all in the past now. Besides, Duke got all upset about what happened. ’

‘I wasn’t in a fit of giggles over it, either. ’

‘Duke’s – you know – sensitive. ’

‘Just hides it well, huh? ’

Norman stood up in the back of the truck. The newspaper bales shifted under his feet. Worse was the sudden wave of nausea.

Then vertigo.

He took a deep breath.

He must have slept for days as Duke drove them south through Oregon, on into Northern California, then probably through the High Sierras – wilderness country, not too many cops – before picking up Highway 190 into the Death Valley National Park and then winding up here in the sand dunes of Furnace Creek in the Mojave Desert.

Was there ever such an unforgiving place?

Snakes, coyotes, kangaroo rats, ghost towns.

But at least no cops.

‘I sure could use a meal and a cool shower. ’ Boots fanned her face with a chubby hand.

‘Hell, I could just use some shade. ’ Norman shielded his eyes.

No houses. Certainly no welcoming diner.

Nothing.

Nothing but god-awful wilderness. Arid wilderness. Snake-filled wilderness.

‘So where’s Duke gone? ’ Norman asked again.

‘He just took himself for a walk. ’

‘A walk? ’ Crazy guy. ‘Boots, you don’t stroll aimlessly through the Mojave Desert. This is the kind of place you carry a snake-bite kit. ’

‘You’ll allow it looks kinda peaceful, Norman. ’

‘Peaceful, huh? There’s also the Edwards Air Force base out here along with the China Lake Weapons Center where they test the biggest, baddest bombs known to humanity. ’

‘Gee, I ain’t seen no soldiers. ’

Norman sighed. ‘We should sit in the shade of the truck. ’

‘I’m working on my tan. ’

‘Your tan? In this heat you’ll fry. ’

Norman climbed off the truck. His legs didn’t work too good.

Stiff from lying on newspapers for days.

He caught sight of his reflection in a side window.

‘Uh, I don’t look too pretty. ’ Bruises, contusions. A cut through his right eyebrow that Boots had taped shut with a Band-Aid.

‘I’ve had worse, ’ she said lightly. ‘You’ll soon heal up nice. ’

‘I hope—’

‘Norman, catch me. ’

She jumped off the back of the truck. Norman did his best.

‘Shit! ’

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