“I heard them asking your husband about where something was. Do you know what they were looking for?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. They asked me the same thing, but I’m just as lost.” Cindy adjusted the seat belt across her body, then wiped her hands across her face again. The stream of tears refused to yield as did the slight tremor in both hands. “The only thing I can think is it has to do with something my husband might have gotten himself into.”
“Such as?” Anna said with a raised brow. “It must be something of extreme importance for them to drive the two of you out in the middle of nowhere and to do what they did.”
Cindy held up her hands, then shrugged. “Like I said, I’m just as lost. My husband and his friend have gotten mixed up with the wrong sort of people in the past, but I thought he left that life behind. Now, I’m not so sure. He’s a good man. Was a good man.”
Anna looked to the rearview mirror, staring at me. She placed her hand on Cindy’s shoulder, comforting her.
“When we get into Salt Lake, did you want us to take you to the police station so you can fill out a report and speak with them about what happened?” I asked.
Anna nudged my shoulder, then cleared her throat.
“I can’t. When they snatched me from my home, I tried to call 911 from my cell but they stopped me. Broke my phone. They said they had people on their payroll inside the department.” Cindy shook her head. “I’m just thankful my Bryce, our son, wasn’t at home when they took me. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say about his father or what to do about this. Will they stop, or come after me again or my son? I–I just don’t know what to do.” The tears flowed from her eyes once more. She cupped her hands and bawled into her palms.
Anna continued to pat her shoulder, then rubbed her back while looking at me in the mirror.
Our eyes locked, but we didn’t say a word.
Shadow laid in the seat next to Anna, her head rested on top of her front paws. She looked at me, then yawned, opening her maw wide and revealing her fangs.
Anna tapped my shoulder with her finger, then pointed out the windshield at the sign coming up on the side of the road. “The turn for Salt Lake is close.”
“I got it,” I shot back, rubbing both of my eyes.
“Just making sure. Your eyes look pretty irritated. Don’t want you missing it. Did you want me to drive?”
I held my hand up. “I’m good. It’s not as bad as it looks.
“Let me know if you want me to, all right,” Anna said, dropping the matter.
“It isn’t going to be safe for you to go back to your home since they know where you live,” I said, glancing over at Cindy. “Do you have any other place that you can go and lay low?”
Cindy lowered her hands from her face, then wiped the tears away. “I can probably go where my son is. It’s in Garden City. He’s been staying with Lucas, a family friend of ours. He’s one of my husband’s good high school buddies. He’s like an uncle to Bryce.”
The turn off for Salt Lake appeared through the ash. I pumped the brake and took the exit at a modest speed. We turned onto the highway and continued on down the long, desolate road coated in silver.
“That sounds like a plan. How far away is Garden City from Salt Lake?” I asked, swerving past a stalled white sedan in the middle of the highway.
“A couple hours, I think. William drove Bryce over there most of the time so he could visit with Lucas a bit. I’m not super familiar with Garden City and have only driven it two times or so over the past ten years.”
Headlights flashed behind us. The gleam caught my attention from the rearview mirror. I peered over my shoulder, then checked the side-view mirror.
“What is it?” Anna asked, twisting in her seat and throwing her arm over the back. Shadow lifted her head from her front paws, then looked up to Anna.
“Not sure. Could be company.” My eyes switched from the road ahead to the rearview mirror. I pressed the gas pedal closer to the floorboard.
Anna cycled a round in her Glock and kept watch out of the rear window.
“Do you think it’s them?” Cindy asked with a quivering tone. She looked in the side-view mirror, turned in her seat, and looked through the back window.
The ashfall concealed most of the vehicle, offering glimpses of the grille and bumper. It surged toward us, gaining fast.
My fingers grabbed the steering wheel tighter. I adjusted my backside in the seat.
“What color was that truck again? I can’t remember.” Anna looked to me, then Cindy.
“Maybe beige I think,” Cindy answered.
“I think it was a dark brown or something like that,” I replied. “It was darker than beige, though.”
The truck drew closer. Its headlights shined through the rear window. We got a better look at the vehicle. It looked to be the same truck, but I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.
Anna trained her Glock at the window, arms steady and free of any tremble.
“Hold your fire,” I said, studying the approaching vehicle. “It might not be them.”
“And if it is?” Anna said without looking back at me.
“We’ll deal with it,” I replied.
We passed a few more cars sitting on the highway collecting ash. The tires squealed, seeking traction on the soot-covered road as I swerved to miss a few of them. I blinked and rubbed my eyes again
