Nobody knew what to say. Even Otto was quiet. Route 66 was like one long silent exhalation, a comedown after the adrenaline surge of Albuquerque.
William saw the barrel of the gun everywhere, a dark circle imprinted upon the night. He began to relive his first day in Fremont Hills, knocking on his new neighbor’s door, Can I borrow your bike pump? The memory came to him unbidden, replayed itself over and over. That was okay. It was better than thinking about the place they’d just left.
There were moments when he still smelled cat pee, and the gun drew itself in and sent his heart racing. Whenever she sensed his discomfort, Christina squeezed his hand.
He ran a finger across the top of her head, wincing at the abrasions.
The second dinosaur was an orange triceratops, spiky forehead angled toward oncoming traffic.
“There are dinosaurs here,” William said. He sat up as best he could and put his arm around Christina’s shoulder, as if they were sitting in a movie theater.
“I see them,” she said.
Daniel sniffed. “Dinosaurs?”
“Turn around,” Melissa said. They watched as the headlights illuminated a goggle-eyed brontosaurus, its long neck arching above the road. And then it was gone. “Guys,” she said, her voice shaky and soft. “I’m sorry for getting us into that. I know I fucked up. I know it could’ve been a lot worse. Just…I really love you guys and I’m sorry.”
“I sort of can’t believe it really happened,” Christina said. “I mean, I’m not very brave, you know? When I think about it now, holding up that phone…it doesn’t feel like it was me. It was like a movie.”
“Story of my life,” Daniel said. Otto brightened the interior by a small degree, the bluish tint turning the bruise on Daniel’s face to a black splotch.
“So…” Melissa sat up straight and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She looked at Daniel, then down at the floor. “I owe you an explanation.” She took a deep breath and let it out. William watched her lip tremble. Her shoulders hunched, and she began to cry. She shook her head and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “We’re just glad you’re safe. We can talk about it later.”
“I’m so stupid,” she said in whisper.
“You’re not stupid.”
“I’m literally the stupidest person alive.”
She fell silent, shaking her head, studying the floor.
William honestly had no idea how Melissa Faber, of all people, could wind up in a place like that. Or why’d she left the car in the first place. He was dying to know, but he respected the fact that she was badly shaken up and might not feel like talking for a while.
An unfamiliar man’s voice came booming through the car. It sounded like a recording. Or a phone call. In the background, William made out the faint twang of country music.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Melissa,” the man said. “Gorgeous and smart, but more importantly you have presence. And that’s the most important thing. That’s what separates the people just throwing videos up on YouTube from the professional creators. And it’s something you can’t fake. Trust me, I know.”
William caught Melissa’s eye. She looked helplessly trapped and freaked out, a specter bathed in blue light. “Otto, turn it off!” Her voice was startlingly loud.
Otto kept it rolling. Melissa’s voice floated through the car: “Thanks. I definitely think I’m ready to take the next step.”
“Oh,” the man said, “without a doubt. And so am I.”
William flashed back to his hurried errand to grab condoms from the car, sprinting down Broadway in Nashville, careening around a corner and almost running into Melissa while she spoke on the phone. So this was who she’d been talking to: some guy who liked to tell her how beautiful she was.
Melissa’s hands beat against the bench. “Otto, SHUT IT OFF.”
The recording stopped. Outside, a pterodactyl crouched like some desert gargoyle and then receded into the night.
“Who was that?” Daniel asked pointedly.
Apprehension made William dizzy. He remembered his parents arguing before they split up. It was like watching a fight between unfamiliar creatures only marginally connected to the words mom and dad. He could still hear the cruel jabs of two people who’d tried so hard to find comfort in each other but somehow missed the mark.
The aftermath of a traumatic event was no time for a big argument. But he had the sinking feeling there would be no going back. He sensed his adrenaline waking up, yawning, kicking into high gear.
“His name is Ash,” Melissa said. “That’s what he told me it was, anyway.” She looked at William, then Christina, then back down at her hands.
“Ash,” Daniel said.
Melissa nodded. “Ash Granger. He said he really believed in *DIYfashion365*. In me. And he had money, too. He wanted to invest.”
“And at no point did it occur to you that he was just some old creep?” Daniel slid to his left, putting a few inches of space between them.
“I know it was stupid, but he had an investor profile, partners, he seemed totally real—there’s tons of stuff about him online, like he’s an actual guy in the start-up world. He never asked me for anything gross, he just always wanted to talk about ideas for the YouTube channel and the business, and—”
“He had a meth lab, Melissa!” Daniel’s palms were up, a helpless gesture of disbelief.
“I know, I know, I said I fucked up, okay? I royally fucked up. I guarantee nobody feels as bad as I do right now.”
Daniel held up his right hand. The first two knuckles had ballooned into a knot of bruised flesh and bone where they’d connected with the man’s face.
“You’re right,” he
