My legs ached with relief as I sat in the front of the cab. Jamie had discreetly shaken his head when he’d been offered shotgun, and Stella had already climbed into the back.
The cowboy was doing us a favor, and a long one, so I decided to make conversation, be polite. “So where are you from?” His name, we had learned, was Mr. Ernst.
“Born and raised in Canton, Ohio. You three?”
“New York,” Jamie and Stella and I said all at once, sticking to our script. Not suspicious at all.
“And your friends just abandoned you like that?” he said, shaking his head with disbelief.
Stella changed the subject. “So, what brings you to the Keys?”
“Oh, just driving the old girl here,” he said, patting the dashboard with a toothy grin. “Just me and her and the road.”
But as he leaned forward, I caught a glimpse of a gun in a holster on his hip. I stiffened.
Jamie had seen it too. He pretended to be interested in it, and asked Mr. Ernst about it, who happily obliged with the make and model and whatever it is people talk about when they talk about guns. I wasn’t really listening. I felt wrong, off, and the feeling made me nervous.
“Never know who you might meet on the road,” Mr. Ernst said. “Gotta be careful. God bless the Second Amendment.” He patted the holster and winked at me.
The road stretched on into infinity, and we didn’t see a single pair of headlights pass in our direction. Suddenly, after who knew how long, I felt the truck slow down.
Stella did too. She wiped her red-rimmed eyes. Jamie kept running his hand over his scalp. They were worried too.
“Where are we?” Stella asked chirpily.
“Mmm, pretty deep in the Keys,” he said evasively. “Still got a couple of hours ahead of us till we reach Miami.” We passed a sign that announced a rest stop in a quarter mile. “It’ll be a while till we hit another bathroom,” Mr. Ernst said. “Nothing around here for miles, so I thought we’d all stop and take a leak.”
Jamie exhaled just a little too loudly. I glared at him.
“I should go,” Stella said.
“Me too,” Jamie admitted.
“Do you have a map?” I asked Mr. Ernst.
He raised his eyebrows. “Girly, I’ve been driving since before you were even a twinkle in your mother’s eye. The only map I need is up here,” he said, pointing to his temple.
“Right,” Stella said, looking back at the road. But we could all feel it: Something was wrong.