then he pressed the gun between them and pulled the trigger,
dropped the hammer.
Whatever
had gone wrong, however they’d lost control of the situation,
Gary had missed all the warning signs.
He
wasn’t missing them now. The car was giving up on him and he
knew it. The accelerator jerked and hesitated under his foot, the
engine kept pausing, as if lost in thought. The service
engine soon light came back on and stayed on, and the oil and battery lights soon joined them.
“What’s
wrong?” Craig said. “What’s wrong with the fucking
car?” The silence from the engine had taken his mind off the
noise from the trunk for a moment.
“It’s
dying,” Gary said.
“That’s
great. That really is. You know that? That’s fucking terrific.
Now we need another goddamn car.”
Minutes
passed without words. Out of the half-light of the setting sun, the
car’s headlights picked out a sign:
Rest
area, 3 miles. Next rest area, 48 miles.
“Oh
no. No. Not another rest area. Not after the last one.”
“We
don’t have any choice,” Gary said, and he could tell
Craig wanted to argue, but there was nothing he could say.
The
engine hesitated as they pulled into the exit, and then twice more as
they pulled into the parking lot. As they passed the No
Overnight Stays sign, the engine gave up completely. They coasted, then stopped, and
with a wordless glance at each other, Craig and Gary got out of the
car, used the open doors to push it into a parking space.
They
looked around. One thing was obvious. One of them had to say it.
“There’s
nobody here,” Craig said.
Gary
shrugged. There wasn’t. Theirs was the only car.
“We
wait,” Gary said. “Someone will come.”
“Sure,”
Craig said. “I mean, it’s not like this is the middle of
nowhere, right?” he said, even though it was. “Somebody
has to come.”
There
was a sudden sound from the back, a crash, desperately loud without
the noise of the engine.
“There
is someone back there,” Craig said. He said it very quietly.
Gary
nodded, no longer able to pretend that there wasn’t. “Not
our problem,” Gary said. “You said it yourself.”
“Yeah.”
More
noise. A shuffling, a shifting of balance.
“Can
I turn on the radio?” Craig asked suddenly.
Gary
snapped the key into position. “Knock yourself out.”
Craig
turned the radio on, turned the dial from one end to the other and
got nothing but static. Once, he found something that may have been
the crackling ranting of some distant preacher, but that faded, too.
“Not
like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Gary said.
“Shut
up,” Craig said, and Gary let him say it. Gary turned the power
back off, and the sound of static died.
There
was another crash. Two more. That, Gary thought, is the sound of
someone with both feet tight together, trying to kick their way out.
Craig
laughed, eyes sideways at Gary, then stopped.
A
new sound came from the back, and this time Gary couldn’t
identify it:
A
low rumble, like a growl, or like the pulse and thrum of some kind of
machinery.
“What
the fuck is that?” Craig said. “Some kind of animal, or —
?”
Gary
shook his head. He didn’t look at Craig — his eyes were
firmly fixed on the entrance waiting for some car, any car, to pull
in.
Three
more kicks. Weaker, this time, like protests.
Craig
opened his door and got out. Gary nearly asked, where are you going?
— but decided it didn’t matter. He dropped the keys in
his pocket and followed.
They
ended up at the Coke machine, staring at it behind the metal bars
that kept it safe from vandals.
“You
don’t have any change, do you? Or any ones?” Craig asked.
Gary
shook his head.
“Man,
I could really use a Coke.” Craig laid his head and hands
against the bars for a second. He laughed. “We’ve got all
this money with us, and I can’t buy a Coke. That’s kind
of funny, isn’t it?”
“Sure,
I guess.”
Craig
walked over to the drinking fountain, and found that it
dropped the hammer.
Whatever
had gone wrong, however they’d lost control of the situation,
Gary had missed all the warning signs.
He
wasn’t missing them now. The car was giving up on him and he
knew it. The accelerator jerked and hesitated under his foot, the
engine kept pausing, as if lost in thought. The service
engine soon light came back on and stayed on, and the oil and battery lights soon joined them.
“What’s
wrong?” Craig said. “What’s wrong with the fucking
car?” The silence from the engine had taken his mind off the
noise from the trunk for a moment.
“It’s
dying,” Gary said.
“That’s
great. That really is. You know that? That’s fucking terrific.
Now we need another goddamn car.”
Minutes
passed without words. Out of the half-light of the setting sun, the
car’s headlights picked out a sign:
Rest
area, 3 miles. Next rest area, 48 miles.
“Oh
no. No. Not another rest area. Not after the last one.”
“We
don’t have any choice,” Gary said, and he could tell
Craig wanted to argue, but there was nothing he could say.
The
engine hesitated as they pulled into the exit, and then twice more as
they pulled into the parking lot. As they passed the No
Overnight Stays sign, the engine gave up completely. They coasted, then stopped, and
with a wordless glance at each other, Craig and Gary got out of the
car, used the open doors to push it into a parking space.
They
looked around. One thing was obvious. One of them had to say it.
“There’s
nobody here,” Craig said.
Gary
shrugged. There wasn’t. Theirs was the only car.
“We
wait,” Gary said. “Someone will come.”
“Sure,”
Craig said. “I mean, it’s not like this is the middle of
nowhere, right?” he said, even though it was. “Somebody
has to come.”
There
was a sudden sound from the back, a crash, desperately loud without
the noise of the engine.
“There
is someone back there,” Craig said. He said it very quietly.
Gary
nodded, no longer able to pretend that there wasn’t. “Not
our problem,” Gary said. “You said it yourself.”
“Yeah.”
More
noise. A shuffling, a shifting of balance.
“Can
I turn on the radio?” Craig asked suddenly.
Gary
snapped the key into position. “Knock yourself out.”
Craig
turned the radio on, turned the dial from one end to the other and
got nothing but static. Once, he found something that may have been
the crackling ranting of some distant preacher, but that faded, too.
“Not
like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Gary said.
“Shut
up,” Craig said, and Gary let him say it. Gary turned the power
back off, and the sound of static died.
There
was another crash. Two more. That, Gary thought, is the sound of
someone with both feet tight together, trying to kick their way out.
Craig
laughed, eyes sideways at Gary, then stopped.
A
new sound came from the back, and this time Gary couldn’t
identify it:
A
low rumble, like a growl, or like the pulse and thrum of some kind of
machinery.
“What
the fuck is that?” Craig said. “Some kind of animal, or —
?”
Gary
shook his head. He didn’t look at Craig — his eyes were
firmly fixed on the entrance waiting for some car, any car, to pull
in.
Three
more kicks. Weaker, this time, like protests.
Craig
opened his door and got out. Gary nearly asked, where are you going?
— but decided it didn’t matter. He dropped the keys in
his pocket and followed.
They
ended up at the Coke machine, staring at it behind the metal bars
that kept it safe from vandals.
“You
don’t have any change, do you? Or any ones?” Craig asked.
Gary
shook his head.
“Man,
I could really use a Coke.” Craig laid his head and hands
against the bars for a second. He laughed. “We’ve got all
this money with us, and I can’t buy a Coke. That’s kind
of funny, isn’t it?”
“Sure,
I guess.”
Craig
walked over to the drinking fountain, and found that it
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