“I’ve seen storms, but nothing with ash falling,” I answered. “Not sure what’s going on.”
“Whatever happened, it doesn’t look good.” Jackal sat back in his leather bucket seat, then palmed the gear shift on the center console that separated us.
I squinted, then peered out of the passenger side window, looking for any sort of land mark, building, or anything else to hint at where we had crash landed. “Do you see anything out there? I’ve got nothing. No buildings or homes. I think I see some mountain ranges out there. Can’t tell for sure, though.”
Jackal peered through the windshield, then the driver’s side window. He pulled the shifter back into reverse and punched the gas. He spun the steering wheel clockwise.
The headlights washed over a barren wasteland filled with splotches of plants and dirt for as far as we could see.
“From what I can see, it looks a lot like Nevada,” Jackal answered. “It would make sense being that we had only been in the air for a short time before the plane went down.”
I pointed at the wreckage. “I wonder how those two found us? There must be a road, path, or some sort of tracks left from those big off road terrain tires.”
The gathering ash on the ground made it hard to tell where a path would be. We had been out most of the night it seemed and the gathering ash blanketed much of the area.
Jackal looked around. “I say we just start driving until we hit a road or something. There has to be one close by unless they were just out roaming the badlands here just for the hell of it when they spotted us.”
I leaned toward him, staring at the fuel gauge that the steering wheel concealed. “How much fuel do we have to work with?”
Jackal pecked at the round gauge with the tip of his finger. “Pretty much a full tank. Should be enough to last us a while.”
“All right. Just drive and maybe we’ll hit a road soon.”
Jackal spun the steering wheel counterclockwise and drove away from the plane, heading in the direction he thought best.
The oversized tires rolled over the uneven ground and any small plants that challenged the vehicle. He took it slow over the rough terrain, working the gas and brake in tandem as we pulled away from the downed aircraft. Both hands held the steering wheel at ten and two as he maneuvered past any large rocks or other obstacles.
I unzipped the coat, allowing my body to release the trapped heat. I popped open the glove box in search of a map, but found nothing more than a few loose papers with no indicators as to where we’d landed, and empty cigarette packages.
I sighed. “Crap. No map in here or anything else of use, so we’re going to need to grab one at the next town we come across.”
“Did you grab the paper that had the coordinates where Lawson’s plane was last?” Jackal asked. “They could’ve crashed like we did. I’m not sure how anything could stay in the sky for long with what’s happening.”
“I did and that’s true. We’ll need to get a map so we can figure out where the hell we are, so we can get our bearings,” I answered, irritated.
Jackal rubbed his eyes, then pointed at my pant pocket. “Have you tried the phone? You could be lucky and get a signal.”
I dipped my chin down to my tattered slacks that had soot and dribbles of blood stained on them. “Battery’s dead. It didn’t have much juice left when we got on the plane back in California, and I forgot to charge it. Besides, I doubt I’d get a signal way out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Do you think Mr. Coleman’s going to be pissed that we haven’t checked in with a status update?” Jackal asked. “You know how he likes to stay informed and up to date on the jobs he’s hired out.”
I shrugged. “Not much we can do, so I guess he’s going to have to just deal with it. Our job parameters haven’t changed, just the destination.”
Jackal nodded, then pointed ahead of us. “I think I see the path they took.” The headlights sliced though the low light, revealing a set of tire tracks among the gray dirt and bushes.
“Good deal. Hopefully it’ll lead to the main highway.” I grabbed the bar in the corner of the jeep as Jackal took the rig down the steep side of a hill to the base. Tin cans and other junk rattled about in the back seat.
The ground evened out and opened to a large plot of land free of any rocks or vegetation in our path.
Jackal spun the steering wheel, cutting the tires and skirting past a large boulder that sat on the corner of a dirt road.
The back end fishtailed. Jackal mashed the gas pedal to the floor. He straightened out the jeep and followed along the narrow road that snaked through the wide-open expanse of the desert.
The muzzle of the rifle clattered off the dash, grating on my nerves. I grabbed the black-painted tip and pulled it back toward the seat.
Jackal switched the radio on. The face lit up with an orange glow. Static hissed from the speakers. He thumbed through the stations for a broadcast or any sort of signal. The white noise crackled inside the cab.
“Here. I’ll mess with that.” I pointed at the road. “You just focus on where we’re going.”
Jackal removed his hand from the knob, then adjusted his body in the seat. He pursed his lips and scrunched his brow.
“You all right?” I asked, sifting through each channel with the hopes of hearing a voice bleed through the static.
“Oh,
