No Second Chances by Rio Youers

Author:Rio Youers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

16

Nueva Vida

They rolled east on I-40 with the sun on the windshield and their visors down. It was like driving into a headache. Luke’s Wayfarers deadened the glare, but it was still bright enough that he needed to adjust his speed. It didn’t help that the air conditioner was broken. They buzzed their windows down, which at least kept the car’s interior from feeling so muggy and still. Kitty turned up the stereo to neutralize the wind noise.

Luke stopped for gas outside Barstow—for human fuel, too, in the form of two large coffees. He also selected a pair of cheap shades for Kitty from the spinning rack next to the beef jerky.

“I was okay with my hand over my eyes,” Kitty said, but she took the shades gratefully and put them on.

“They were twelve bucks,” Luke said. He hooked his cell phone and other assorted crap—coins, candy wrappers, hand sanitizer—from the cup holders, making room for their coffees. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to miss the breathtaking scenery.”

“You mean the arid wastelands of southeastern California?”

“Exactly.” Luke grinned and cranked the ignition.

They drove across the High Desert, colorless and dry all the way to the horizon. It was punctuated by dusty towns, skeletal scrub, and volcanic rock. Road signs announced exits and attractions in lackluster tones. The distant mountains were as dark as lead, drawing a serrated line between the pale land and paler sky.

“How long before we get there?” Kitty asked.

“An hour and a half. Maybe a little longer.” Luke gestured at the clock in the dash. “Should be pulling into Nueva Vida somewhere around eleven.”

“That’s early,” Kitty said. “We’re making good time.”

“I’d be there yesterday, if I could.”

Kitty was in charge of the music. She shuffled through Luke’s CDs, then decided that the radio was the way to go, although she changed stations every time a traffic report or commercial came on. Lisa used to do the same thing, Luke remembered with a wistful smile, even though they’d had satellite radio. She just liked pushing those buttons. “It’s like hunting for musical treasure,” she’d say. Luke didn’t mind Kitty hopping between stations, the same way he’d never minded Lisa doing it. There were always bigger things to get into a fight about.

They lost all radio signal on a stretch of dead highway south of the Mojave Preserve. Kitty punched the buttons for a minute and found nothing. “To hell with it,” she said, and shut the radio off. She propped her feet on the dash, reclined her seat, and closed her eyes.

The silence was welcome, although Luke tried not to occupy it with thoughts of what lay ahead. Sometimes it was better to not think—to simply trust the gears of instinct. He focused on his surroundings, zipping alongside semis and bikers and buses. He looked at the mountains, and at the dry tangles of creosote bush and desert senna. Bugs slapped the windshield. Kitty’s foot twitched.

He didn’t think she was sleeping, not with the hot air rumbling through her open window, but she snapped awake a moment later, crying out, one hand clutched to her chest.

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