Dean had avoided coming to terms with his heinous acts, always priding himself on doing more good than harm, abiding by the rule of law. That was, until the flu outbreak had turned decent folk into murderous thieves. He held his tongue, giving Luther his space as the miles flew by and the gas tank’s needle edged closer to the E.
When the sleepy sun glinted above the horizon, it revealed the dark patches under Luther’s eyes. It was time to pull over whether the truck needed to or not. “Best we give the truck a break,” Dean suggested. Their whereabouts suddenly clicked. “Son of a gun, I know this place.”
A familiar rest stop with a vista view was just ahead. “Pull over at the vista point. Might be a good spot to eat and whatnot.” It was too early for dead-heads.
Luther merely nodded and followed the exit up the buckled pavement to the vista point.
Dean tapped the cab’s rear window to a crowd of sleeping faces. “We’re stopping,” he attempted to shout through the glass.
Scarlett snapped to and reached for her 9mm. She nudged Justin and Mindy while Ella and Twila yawned themselves awake.
“Stay sharp,” Dean said. No doubt a working vehicle in these parts was worth a billion bucks.
Luther took a long whiff out the window before parking dead center in the vista point’s turnout. “Don’t smell any stinking nimrods.”
Dean resisted the luring appeal of the mesa framed by the mystique mountains. He and his granddaddy used to stop there during their summer road trips delivering horses to the ranches in these parts. They were closer to Albuquerque than he thought. Excitement edged in. He pushed it back and drew his Glock. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. They were so close the wild strawberries had his mouth watering.
Dean eagerly jumped outside. “Watch yourself!” A familiar gruff voice lingered in the back of his mind.
“Granddaddy?” Dean whispered in his mind. Now he understood what Scarlett and Twila meant about spirit guides. Looks likes his dear ole granddaddy’s spirit had been keeping tabs on him for some time, only he had been too dense to accept it for what it was.
“Dino my boy, you’re on the right track. But you’re cuttin’ it close.” Granddaddy’s voice seemed to echo across the mesa’s vastness and into his heart, prickling the corners of his eyes with phantom tears.
Dean glanced around. “Twila, Scarlett, Mindy—any bad feelings or warnings?”
“Nothing,” Scarlett said faintly.
“Ooh, this place is sooo quiet.” Twila gasped in awe. “I can hear the mountains singing.”
His sentiments exactly. One of the things he missed about New Mexico. Mindy didn’t offer any commentary as usual; she just stood at the edge of the railing, letting the wind whip her golden-wheat locks. Her ethereal glow had him thinking she was a priestess from the mystical land of Avalon. Not one to let his imagination get the best of him, he shook away the preposterous notion.
“Justin, Scarlett, keep us covered while Luther and I fuel up the truck.”
“Dude, there’s all kinds of uber-cool G.I. Joe crap in the back. Like ammo cans and MREs,” Justin chattered on. “Even sleeping bags.”
“I should make breakfast,” Ella said. “I found a knapsack with cans of corned beef hash in the truck.”
“Don’t worry, Twila.” Scarlett answered Twila’s questioning frown. “We have oatmeal.”
“Might as well use up the heavier supplies. We can always strip down the MREs,” Dean said, much to his dismay. He was sick and tired of those blasted sodium-saturated “thingamabobs.”
He fiddled with the gas cap while Luther brought out the jerrycans. “Justin, you mind inventorying our food supplies once we get back on the road. I want to know how many meals we have.”
“Sure.”
“And someone, keep your eyes on the skies for those blackbirds from hell,” Dean managed to keep the quiver out of his voice.
Meanwhile, Dean wondered how they’d haul their supplies since they were down to four carts. Looks like they had enough diesel for another six to eight hours. After that, they’d be on foot the rest of the way. Unfortunately, bicycles were out of the question. Mindy had confided she had grown up in an apartment and had never ridden a bike, which nixed the harness contraption he had mentally designed to pull the carts. No doubt it would take a solid three to four days on foot to get where they were going. And that was if they found bridges. And no trouble.
“Just get there!” The scolding buzzed his brain, bringing him back. That’s when he recognized a dark presence homing in on them.
Mindy came running for the truck and jumped into the back. Scarlett’s stunning aquamarine eyes widened, and Twila’s sudden statue-like state confirmed his suspicion. Looks like it’s MREs after all.
“Luther,” Dean queried, “how’s ’bout you ride shotgun? Time to move on.”
So much for resting the engine. Dean sure hoped the cargo truck was up to it. He certainly wasn’t. For the majestic skyline had turned on them. Something sinister scoured the earth—for them. And By God, Dean would do whatever it took. To protect his friends. And humanity’s last chance.
Chapter 34
Justin Chen jerked from side to side, scanning the crumbling county highway that looked like remnants of an ancient civilization. He could almost hear the dude with the big crazy hair narrating, “Ancient Astronaut theorists say, “Might this be an ancient ruin from our alien past . . .” At least his wonky imagination hadn’t withered away.
A peculiar new energy made him increasingly nervous. Desperation, he decided. They’d been hiking the deserted roads through the barren land of what used to be
