“There’s no point in just sitting here, Desmond. If we can’t get to where we’re going the short way, we’ll go the long way.”
“You sure you know where to go?” Desmond asked, switching gears and making the brief turn that would take them off the interstate.
“That’s what maps are for,” Jamie sighed.
No one said a word as Desmond broke through the treeline.
Illusion took precedence over reality. What appeared to be one road was actually another. One house looked the same as the next. Trees extended for miles on end without any sign of difference between one crop or the other. They went in circles, Dakota knew, even though they were only taking the occasional turn, and by the time night fell, all three of them were at their wits’ end.
“This is ridiculous,” Jamie sighed, defeated, collapsing back into his seat as Desmond pulled over to look at the map in the center console. “We’ve been going at this for hours.”
“You can’t even read the map,” the boy said. He, too, was angry, despite his usually-calm and reserved demeanor. His voice carved daggers in the air and drew fresh blood from microscopic particles. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Keep going?” Dakota offered.
“There’s no point in that,” Jamie sighed. A growl rose in his throat when he saw that the sun was beginning to set behind a hill and the sky was dampening to a dull hue of grey. “I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s not much we can do,” Desmond said. “Maybe we should just stop for the night, see if we can get into someone’s house.”
“For what?”
“Food, maybe a map.”
“We’ve got food in here, buddy.”
“I want to get out of the truck.”
“I do too, but there’s no point in drawing attention to ourselves.”
Dakota leaned back. While Jamie and Desmond argued in the front seat, their tempers finally getting the best of them, he looked outside and frowned at how fast the sky seemed to darken. Maybe it was just a Minnesota thing, but regardless, it set his nerves on edge, especially with the commotion going on in the seats in front of him.
They’ll stop, he told himself, trying not to keep track of the time in front of him. Really. They will.
They kept fighting, on and off, for the next half-hour. By the time they stopped, it was full dark.
“Let’s just stay here for the night,” Jamie said, reaching over to disengage the vehicle. “We’re obviously too tired and angry to think about anything rationally.”
Desmond said, “Whatever.”
Dakota caught the beginnings of a snarl on Jamie’s face. He shook his head slightly, just enough for his boyfriend to catch the point. “Either of you want to sleep in the back tonight?”
No one answered.
A light blinked on in the distance.
Am I seeing things? Dakota thought.“Did you guys see that?” he asked.
“See what?” Jamie asked.
“That light.”
“What light?”
“There.” Dakota pointed. “Look.”
Jamie waited. When the glimmer didn’t shine, he sighed and tilted his head slightly. “Really, Dakota, I’m not in the mood for—”
The flicker cut Jamie off midsentence.
“I saw it,” Desmond said. “You had to have.”
“I did,” Jamie said. “Start the truck.”
“What if it’s trouble?” Dakota asked. He thought of all those weeks ago in Steve’s apartment, when the gang had first showed up and their lights had lit up the night sky.
Steve.
He managed to hold back a tremble of emotion when Jamie pushed himself up in his seat and set his jaw. For a moment, he simply sat there, watching the distant light swing back and forth, then he knocked his knuckles on his window and shook his head. “If it’s trouble, we’ll handle it. Right now, I just want to figure out where the hell we’re supposed to go.”
Desmond flicked the key in the ignition and flashed the lights twice in response. The light in the distance stopped swaying, went out, then blinked back at them two times. “They see us.”
“Go,” Jamie said.
Dakota found himself wanting to cross his fingers as Desmond put the truck in gear and maneuvered back onto the road, toward the hill where the beacon of hope continued to glimmer in absolute darkness. He contained himself though, preferring reality to deal its dues than to wish for good with false superstition of childhood belief.
The pressure of Jamie’s hand falling over his knocked him from his thoughts. “We’re cool,” he said. “We’ve got guns.”
“And a truck,” Desmond added.
Dakota smiled.
The truck lurched up the hill as Desmond switched gears, then a tall wooden fence and a breathtaking pasture flashed into view.
“Like their own little Eden,” Jamie muttered, leaning forward as the beacon’s light tilted into the air and began to wave at them from the side of their road.
“What do I do?” Desmond asked, pushing his foot on the brake.
“Pull over when you get close enough,” Jamie said. “Roll my window down. If something goes bad, floor it.”
“Got it.”
Desmond switched to the lowest gear and pulled up to the side of the road.
His hand fell to the stick and put it into neutral.
Like a will-o-wisp slowly drifting across the horizon, the light moved forward until, finally, a Native American man with long white hair came into view. Jamie pushed his finger onto the passenger armrest and rolled the window down.
“Good evening,” the Native said.
“Evening,” Jamie said. “We’re kind of lost.”
“I can see that, sir. Not many people come back here. Not many people around to come back here either, if you think about it.”
“Can you help us? We’re trying to get the interstate.”
“I can help you,” the man said. He looked up the road, toward a hooded figure that stood near a gate with a lantern in his hand. “Go tell your father we have visitors.”
“Yes sir,” the figure said, turning to disappear up the road.
“Welcome to our home,” lantern-bearer said. “My name is Eagle. This is the Partridge Family farm.”
CHAPTER 7
“School’s in session,” Erik smirked, slamming the last curtain into the windowsill of Romero’s Charity High School’s teachers’ lounge.
“Never thought I’d be back so soon,” Steve chuckled, settling down into an armchair.
“Me neither,” Ian said. He took a moment to examine their surroundings before collapsing onto a couch. “Where we goin’ from here?”
“Idaho,” Erik said. “That’s been the plan all along.”
“You think Jamie will really be there?” Steve frowned. “I mean, I get the reason behind going, but it’s kind of a longshot to assume that’s where they’ll go.”
“He’ll be there. Jamie and I always told each other that if shit went down, we’d meet up back home. That’s Idaho.”
“I trust you.”
The venom in his chest still hadn’t died down. Nearly three days after being abruptly separated from the rest of their group, Steve still couldn’t quell the feeling of helplessness in his chest. He wanted so desperately for them to be together, for them to be safe and away from all the wrong in the world. Most importantly, though, he wanted to know that Dakota was safe.
“It’ll be good,” Erik said.
Steve sighed. “I miss him.”
“Who?”
“The kid.”
“I miss him too,” Ian said.
“He’ll be fine,” Erik said, slapping Steve’s shoulder. “Jamie’ll make sure he stays safe.”
“I don’t doubt that. He is the kid’s boyfriend, after all.”