“Fire off a round at the first sign of trouble,” Dean said. “And we’ll be there.”
Justin set his pack next to Ella. “Back in a few minutes.” He kissed her clammy cheek.
“Hon, be careful.” She blew him a kiss.
Justin fought back the crippling pain cramping his calves as he sprinted down the road, aware of every movement in the horizon. That bridge better be there. He daydreamed of the day they found their new home. But his vivid dreams of a lush land promising a new life were fleeting—like the mirages wavering in the distance. So close, yet nonexistent.
A flapping sound from behind startled him. He turned around to find a super large bird swooping down on him. “Holy crap! You’ve got to be the ugliest bird ever.” He swung at it with the tire iron. It flapped past him.
Hissing and gnawing caught his attention. Something was on the other side of a rusted-old truck stranded in the road. Zs? With the tire iron at the ready, he turned the truck’s corner to disturb a flock of disgusting birds feeding on a carcass. Just buzzards.
He sprinted until the pavement disappeared beneath his feet. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Apparently, the Bridge Toll Takers had destroyed the bridge. “You guys, suck!” Justin belted out to the merciless desert. He had met a Bridge Toll Taker gang once. These men went around blowing up bridges, leaving people no choice but to pay outrageous tolls for the insta-bridges they temporarily assembled.
Justin trampled as close as he could get to the fast-flowing creek-like river. It was too steep. Too dangerous. And not a single freaking boat in sight. He took a quick piss in private. Dreading Ella’s disappointment, he sprinted back and forced himself out of his free-falling depression. He had to stay strong for Ella.
Feeling reckless, he ran daringly close to the vultures. They hissed and hovered over the carcass and then pecked at each other, fighting for a spot on what must have been a dog or a coyote. He resisted the urge to swing away at them to release his pent-up tension. They were just desperate animals—trying to survive—just like him.
By the time Justin reached his friends, his dismal mood must have answered their question. He just shook his head. Poor Ella. She hunched over and cried. Twila was the first to comfort her. For that’s how tired he was. He didn’t even have the energy to comfort the love of his life.
“I feel them—” Mindy whispered in a faraway tone.
“I do too,” Scarlett confirmed.
“Don’t be scared,” Twila chirped. “It’s like we’re hiding under an umbrella lost in time.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Justin chastised under his breath.
“Was it blown up?” Luther had to ask.
“Ye-ah. I don’t think they left any bridges . . .”
“Can we cross the creek?” Dean asked.
“No way. The water’s too fast.”
“There’s always a Plan B,” Scarlett intoned.
Scarlett and her Plan Bs. The last time it had almost gotten them killed. But, he didn’t want to be a Debbie-Downer.
“Folks, listen up.” Dean wasn’t looking so well. He definitely needed an SPF 10,000 sunscreen. “Got some good news. And some bad news.”
“Good God,” Luther bellowed, retying a soaked do-rag around his head. “I can’t take any more bad news.”
“According to the map, there’s a KOA campground ’bout four miles northwest of here.” Dean pointed to his raggedy map. “If we cut across here and pick it up a notch, we’ll get there in an hour or so.”
Twila started skipping around. “Ooh, I think we can fish there.”
“Please tell me it has cabins,” Ella pleaded, rocking Mateo.
“Yep, it’s got the cabin and fishing symbols right here on the map,” Dean said, finally smiling.
“Really, you want us to hike through the prickly pear?” Justin hadn’t meant to sound so wimpy. Hiking the desert sucked.
Dean grabbed his cart. “Nothin’ we can’t handle.”
“Yay!” Twila cheered. “We get to sleep inside and eat fish.”
“And the bad news?” Justin droned. A flash of light had him reaching for his gun. He swung around as the sky grumbled in Bose surround sound.
“A thunderboomer’s brewing. Smell the ozone?” Dean sniffed at the sky. “Another reason to find shelter.”
Justin had his doubts. “It’s way over there, miles away.”
“They have a way of sneaking up on you out here in the wide open. The thunderstorms in these parts can get ferocious.”
“Y’all don’t have to tell me twice.” Luther swung on his duffle. “Better not be no damn tornadoes.” He brandished his industrial-size wrench to the sky.
Justin couldn’t stop laughing at Luther’s excessive fear of tornadoes. Ella giggled next, and Scarlett joined in. Mindy and Twila looked at them as if they were all bonkers. Then, Dean lost it. It was the release they needed.
Twila flashed Luther a goofy cross-eyed stare. “Ooh, I wish I could see a tornado in real life!”
With that, Luther turned his back on the puffy storm clouds billowing into a ginormous anvil in the sky. “You said—that way?” Luther pointed with his wrench.
“Yep,” Dean tried to say with a straight face and then lost it again.
All of Luther’s two-hundred-plus pounds jived in a celebratory end-zone jig. “Yeah, baby. Getting my mojo back.” He took off, dodging runaway tumbleweeds and jumping over cacti. “Last one there has to empty the sump tank.”
They trekked through the desert with newfound energy, thanks to Luther’s exuberance.
Chapter 35
Twila Lewis stepped carefully between all the pretty cactus trees, happy she didn’t have to ride in the cart. She stopped to smell a bright-pink wildflower until Mommy gave her the not-now frown. So, she hurried on, saying goodbye to the teeny dragons peering curiously with wary eyes before scurrying off to hide. Horny toads, Grandpa Dean called them. Maybe she could play with them later.
Everyone was hot
