“I have to go back out there. I can’t take the boy. He has to be someplace safe, okay? I trust you.”

“Come on, Toby. There’s got to be some old lady you know who can do it. I’ve never even been a baby sitter.”

“Molly, look at me. There’s serious shit going on.”

“I can’t. I’ve never even changed a diaper.”

I put a hand on each of her shoulders. “Molly, I’m begging you. Look at me. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Okay, okay. Crap. I don’t know what he eats or anything.”

She was right. I’d fled the trailer without the diaper bag. No wipes or diapers or ass cream. Nothing. It wasn’t like dropping off a stray kitten. The boy needed things.

“I’ll make a run to the store. I’ll get diapers. I need you to do this.”

“I’ll do it, but what if he gets sick or—”

“He’ll just sleep. It’ll be fine.”

She sighed.

I took her into my arms, felt relieved when she hugged me back. Her head tilted up and I bent to kiss her, felt her tongue slip into my mouth, one of her warm hands on my neck. We let it go on like that for a while. I didn’t want to leave, but knew I had to. I slipped out of her arms, stepped away.

“I’ll be back with diapers and milk. Soon.”

I paused on the way out, touched TJ’s head. I hoped he hadn’t been traumatized. I hoped he’d sleep peaceful and have good dreams and not wake up asking for Mommy. I made silent promises to him.

Outside, I hopped in the Nova, lit a Winston and headed for the Texaco.

CHAPTER TEN

I was halfway down the Six back to the Texaco when fatigue sat on my chest like a five hundred pound gorilla. So tired. The night had rubbed me raw, the adrenaline leaking away, leaving me feeling wrung out. I almost nodded off at the wheel, slapped my own face to keep awake.

I pulled into the Texaco, went inside.

The same girl was on duty. She looked tired too. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it after getting an eyeful of me. I didn’t even want to think what I looked like.

I grabbed a half-gallon of milk, a pack of diapers, wipes and three energy drinks, took it all to the counter. The girl rang it up, and it came to like a million dollars. Fucking convenience store prices. I had my wallet this time and paid.

Back in the Nova I popped open one of the energy drinks. It tasted like melted cough drops and propane. I saw these high school kids all over town drinking them all the time. What the hell was going on with their taste buds? I made myself drink the whole thing then started the car and headed back to Coyote Crossing.

The drink kicked in a mile from town, like triple caffeine pulsing through my veins. Eyes open wide. I felt the juice humming through my veins. I drummed the steering wheel in time to Golden Earring. It wasn’t usually my kind of music, but my old band had done a really twisted, kick-ass cover of this song, so I let it play. A lot of these old bands weren’t so bad. I flew through the night wired on the energy drink, the music lifting the car through space and time. The full moon hung yellow in the sky like the devil’s cream pie.

I caught sight of them in the rearview mirror a split-second before the Mustang slammed into the back of the Nova.

I swerved, the two right tires going off the road and kicking up dust. I jerked the wheel, got the Nova back in the center. They’d blazed up behind me hard and fast with the lights off. They bumped me again, and I heard the tinkle-crunch of the back end dying. The rear bumper went clanging down the highway.

Mothefucker!

I stomped the gas. I might as well have been trying to escape on a Big Wheel. The Mustang slammed me again hard. I guessed they might be pissed at having to change a tire. They switched on the headlights and I winced at the brights. On the next slam, I lost control, the Nova spinning in the road, the Mustang’s headlights a bright blur across my windshield. I ended up pointed the opposite direction, hands white-knuckled on the wheel and Golden Earring still pounding the speakers.

The Mustang roared past me so close on the driver’s side it clipped the mirror with a sharp crack. The motor had stalled, and I turned the key, pumped gas and she fired up again. The Mustang was making a slow turn and coming back.

I fishtailed, pointed the Nova dead into the oncoming headlights and pressed the accelerator until the engine screamed murder. A good old-fashioned game of chicken. Let’s see who had the balls and who didn’t. Who’d blink first, him or me?

Me.

I wrenched the wheel right as hard as I could, skidding the Nova sideways. This part of the Six was elevated two or three feet, so the shoulder went down at a steep angle. The Nova tilted alarmingly, and I thought I was destined to be upside down. I fought the wheel, every muscle in my body straining, great sprays of dust kicking up on either side as I straightened out and headed back for the highway. I bottomed out as the Nova climbed the shoulder and hit the highway. I got up to speed.

The Mustang’s headlights filled the rearview mirror in no time flat.

I thought it was coming up to smash my rear again, but it swerved up alongside and the two cars bumped side to side. I turned the wheel toward him, put a nice dent in his passenger side door, but he came back double-hard and I almost left the road again. He came over, and I slammed the breaks, let him get in front of me.

My turn, asshole.

I gave it the gas before he could get set, and bashed him a good one in the rear end. One of my headlights winked out, but I killed both his tail lights. Score one for the deputy.

My minor triumph didn’t last long. He sped up, juked and jived, braked hard and was along side me again. He careened into me hard, and this time I did go off the road, went down the steep embankment, the car started to tilt. I panicked, turned the wheel the wrong way, and the car rolled.

The Nova became a shook-up snow globe of crap, candy wrappers and soda cans and fast-food wrappers flying as the car slid to a stop upside down, the remaining headlight flailing uselessly against the dust cloud which had swallowed the car. I felt like I’d been flung into another reality.

I new they’d be on me soon. I unbuckled the seatbelt, uncrumpled myself. I couldn’t get the door open, so I rolled down the window, scrambled out and pulled the revolver. I coughed, blinked against the swirling dust. I wiped at my eyes, something sticking. There was a gash over my left eye, and I smeared the dust and blood across my face. I leaned back against the Nova, kept the gun up, waiting for somebody to come kill me.

Nobody did.

I belly crawled up the embankment, saw what had happened.

Fifty yards away, the Mustang had gone off the road on the other side, its nose over the embankment. It scraped bottom as it rocked back and forth, gunning its engine, trying to unstick itself. The back tires kicked up dirt and rocks. It would rip free any second and come back for me.

I reached back into the Nova and grabbed the bag with the diapers and milk. I began jogging across country back to town. It was less than a mile away, the lights clearly visible. Even with the moon out, they wouldn’t be able to spot me across the vast black of the night landscape. Let them hunt for me near the flipped Nova. I jogged a minute and allowed myself a quick look back.

The Mustang was loose again, cruising slowly. It parked more or less near the overturned Nova, the headlights stabbing the night. If I got lucky, maybe they’d piss away a whole hour cruising around the wreck looking for me.

I turned back toward town and kept jogging.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Holy crap!” Molly muffled herself to a hoarse whisper.