She just sits there petting the cat.

He doesn't mind

Neither does she.

Ok then.

So do they get anywhere important?

Not for a while.

But do they?

Eventually, yes. Even in the moonlight, the ground looked dry, dusty, as though it hadnt rained in a thousand years. Theyd crossed over into New Mexico a few hours earlier, crisscrossing their way on remote back roads--which, once theyd gotten out of Texas, had abruptly turned to dust. The Chevy groaned along at about thirty miles an hour, with the wheels spitting up a steady stream of dirt and pebbles as they rumbled over the uneven ground. Occasionally one would ping against the windshield, nicking it. Alex had frowned as he drove, concentrating on steering them around the ruts and dips. Finally it had gotten so dark that driving had become too risky in the Chevy, so hed pulled off the road and theyd stopped for the night.

She's carrying Shadow in her arms, who fell asleep two hours ago and is happily napping on her elbow.

They hadnt seen another living soul in hours.

Now Alex sat leaning against the car, drinking one of the Coors theyd found in the cooler. It had always reminded Alex of the ocean in a weird way--so endless and utterly silent. And cold, now that the sun was down. He had his leather jacket on. Alex drained the beer, then crushed the can between his hands and played with the crumpled aluminum.