“A way out?” Chad said. “We don’t even know how we made our way in. Do you remember how we got down here? I sure don’t.”
Bode didn’t either. On the other hand, he’d gotten into some serious smack, so maybe that was understandable. The high had tailed off, though, and while Bode knew from experience that his memory never quite recovered a hundred percent, he really didn’t recall more than jagged fragments and sensations: the stink of piss from the men’s room, a thick sweat-fog hanging over the dance floor.
The moment he squeezed the trigger.
“Bode, I’m telling you, man: the cops catch us, they turn us over to the MPs and it’s Leavenworth. They give you the firing squad for stuff like this.” Chad hugged himself a little tighter. “I told you to let it roll, but no. You had to go and follow the LT out of the bar.”
Bode was tempted to point out that the military’s preferred method for execution these days was hanging, but no use making Chad more anxious than he was already. “Relax. No one saw us.”
“Bode, anyone finds your gun, the cops or the MPs’ll trace it right back to you.”
“Yeah, but we ship out in a week. No way they’ll pull us out of that.”
“How you figure?”
“Man, they’re hurting for guys to fight. No one’ll come looking. Come morning, we get our bearings and drive on out of here. Until then, don’t sweat it. Everything’ll be copacetic.”
“What if the owners here show up?”
Battle: They won’t.
“They won’t,” Bode echoed. “Not tonight anyway.”
“Man, I hope not.” Chad shivered. “House gives me the creeps. Know what bothers me? The food.”
Bode laughed. “Macaroni and cheese makes you nervous?”
Don’t laugh, Battle said. He’s right.
“Bode, that food was ready and waiting,” said Chad. “That’s just wrong. No one goes off during a blizzard and leaves his oven on.”
It was a good point. “If there was an emergency, they might,” Bode said, but he couldn’t convince even himself.
“If there was an emergency,” Chad said, “then it was a long time ago. There were no tracks and the road wasn’t plowed. That casserole ought’ve burnt. But it didn’t. I’m telling you: that’s not right.”
“Well, we’re not going to solve that little mystery now.” Turning away from the window and Battle, Bode scooped up the Winchester and the Remington pump. “Come on.”
Chad’s mouth set in an unhappy line, but he followed because that’s what Chad did best. Yet he—or maybe Battle—had planted a seed, because Bode realized something as they drove away and the house and barn dwindled to bright islands.
There was light. The house had electricity. But there were no power lines. This far out in the country, there would have to be.
So where was the light—the power—coming from?
3
“MAYBE IT’S LIKE gas,” Chad said now. He dug at his sore with a dirty thumbnail. “You know, like some kind of nerve gas or that Agent Orange.”
“Agent Orange?” Eric said. There was another sharp blat of static as he switched channels on his handset. “They don’t use that stuff anymore.”
“Yeah, man, there’s laws,” Bode said. “Besides, you need a bird for that. No way anyone’s flying a chopper tonight.”
Chad’s left foot jiggled as he pick-pick-picked. “Hey, Eric, you know how far it is to the nearest town?”
Sighing, Eric clicked off his walkie-talkie and shoved it into his parka. “No. I’ve never been down here before.”
“You know where we are?”
In the mirror, Bode saw Eric’s reflection hesitate. “No,” Eric said. “I don’t. Where were you coming from?”
“Outside Jasper,” Bode said. He ignored Chad’s sharp, reproving look. “Stopped off at this little cowboy honky-tonk around eight, nine o’clock.”
“Jasper? Never heard of it. What’s it near?”
“Uh …” For a moment, Bode’s mind simply blanked to a white dazzle. Then a word slid onto his tongue. “Casper.”
There was a small silence. Then Eric said, “Where?”
“You know … Casper.” For a weird moment, Bode thought that this was like when you tried to explain to the hootchgirl that you didn’t want any starch for your shirts, only she didn’t speak but two words of English and you kept shouting, No starchee, no starchee! Like that would get her to understand what you wanted, which she never did. “Casper.”
“Where’s that? Is that near Poplar or something?”
“No, it’s …” Bode licked his lips, then blurted, “Cheyenne!” He felt like he’d just passed a really tough exam he’d forgotten to study for. “Yeah, north of Cheyenne.”
“Cheyenne,” Eric repeated.
“Yeah, Cheyenne.” Chad cranked his head around. “You got some kind of hearing problem? The man said Cheyenne.”
“No, no. It’s just … where do you guys think you are?
What state?”
“What state?” Chad repeated. “Wyoming, man. Where else?”
4
ERIC WAS QUIET for so long Bode’s jaw locked. He had to really dig deep to push the word out. “What?”
“Wyoming plates,” Eric said, but he might as well have said aha. “That’s why you have Wyoming plates.”
“Well, yeah,” Chad said. “So?”
“You guys,” Eric said, slowly, “you guys are a real long way from Jasper, Wyoming.”
“Oh hell. Are we in Kansas? We’re in Kansas, aren’t we?” Chad turned to Bode. “I told you we took a wrong turn outside Laramie.”
“You guys aren’t in Kansas,” Eric said.
“Then where the hell are we?” asked Chad.
“You’re … Oh man.” Eric blew out. “You’re in Wisconsin.”
A beat. Then two. Chad broke the silence with a laugh. “That’s crazy.”
“No.”
“What are you talking about, no?” Chad sniggered again and shook his head. “No, he says. How many spiffs you smoke tonight?”
“What?” Eric waved that away. “Never mind. Look, I started out in Wisconsin this afternoon. I know I didn’t take a snowmobile into the storm and end up blown clear to Wyoming. So we’re either still in Wisconsin, or somehow we’ve all ended up in Wyoming.”
“Mountains are right,” Bode said. “Valley’s right for Wyoming.”
“That’s true. But I honestly don’t think that’s where we are.”
“So we’re in Wisconsin?” Chad asked. “Like where in Wisconsin?”
“I’m not sure of that either, but if we are … then we’re north,” Eric said. “I … I don’t know exactly where.”
“No, of course you don’t,” Chad said.
Battle’s head still floated in the mirror, but Bode focused on Eric’s reflection. “What if …” His tongue gnarled. Bode licked his lips and tried again. “What if we’re not anywhere?”
“What?” Chad said.
Eric returned Bode’s look. “I don’t know where we’d be, then.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Chad asked. “We’re right here.”
“Yeah, but where is that, exactly?” Eric said.
Or when. The thought was suddenly there in Bode’s mind, like the rip of a fart you just couldn’t ignore. “Maybe we’re in between, like limbo.”