A rusted Studebaker sat in the middle of a cleared area, the last rays of sun reflecting off a tarnished, chrome mirror. Yellowed grass reached up past its corroded fenders. Flecks of baby-blue paint shone amidst the cancerous steel. Its headlights were empty holes staring straight ahead, but when he approached its side, he saw that all of its glass was intact.
Quinn looked around the clearing, barely wide enough to house the car itself, and spotted an overgrown path stretching away into the darkening forest. A peal of thunder, this one closer, echoed in the sky. He tried the rear driver’s door handle, and it opened with a shriek of protest. A musty plume of air wafted past him. The ancient upholstery cracked and split when he placed his hand on it and pressed down. Other than a gathering of dried moss on the floorboards, the interior was devoid of moisture.
When he returned to where Alice and Ty waited, the half-smile on his face silenced Alice’s questions.
“I think we found our campsite,” he said.
They ate the remainder of the fish inside the car as the first raindrops fell against the windshield. The woods around them settled beneath a blanket of darkness, and the sky became a mass of folded clouds.
“How far do you think we walked today?” Quinn asked, as the rain began to drum harder against the roof. Alice reclined in the passenger seat and propped her injured leg on the dash.
“My leg says three hundred miles, but I’m guessing it was closer to ten.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Ty began to sing lilting tones that drifted up to them from the backseat where he’d lain down. Something folksy and sad.
“What song is that?” he asked as the storm increased and lightning splintered the darkness.
“The Biplane, Evermore.”
“It sounds familiar.”
“The Irish Rovers sang it. My dad loved them.”
“Was he Irish?”
“Half, and half English. He said that was why he could never make a decision.” The beginnings of a smile fell from her face, and she turned her head toward the window. The rain came down harder, turning the interior of the old car into a pounding cacophony.
“What happened to him?” Quinn said. He held his breath, sure that she wouldn’t answer. She kept her face turned away from him, and after a long time, he knew she’d fallen asleep. He glanced into the backseat and saw Ty had laced his hands together over his chest and was breathing slow and deep. He looked like a miniature old man taking a nap. Quinn gave Alice a final look, her outline a darker shadow against the window, and readjusted the rifle beside him, settling in for the night. He was at the boundaries of sleep when Alice spoke, her voice barely carrying to him over the rain.
“He was in the Navy for fourteen years. That’s why I know how to handle guns and probably why I curse so much. He had quite a few guns of his own and brought me out shooting when I was little. He was the kind of guy that never gave an inch when he thought he was right, and my mom was the same way. It made for some hard days, but they loved each other.
“One night when I was twelve, our furnace failed. Earlier that fall my dad had had it inspected, and the guy who signed off on it was a drunk. Turns out he had been drinking that morning and hadn’t checked the emergency shutoff valve. A fire started in our basement, and it had eaten through the floor by the time my dad woke up.”
Alice breathed deeply, steadying herself. Lightning stuttered and lit the inside of the car, turning the tears on her face into jewels.
“Part of the wall in my room collapsed when the floor started to drop into the basement. It fell on my bed and pinned me there. I remember the flames, how they moved like they were alive, like they were looking for me. Then my dad came through the smoke and shoved the wall away and I was free. I don’t remember him carrying me outside. The next thing I knew my mom was holding me near the street and it was snowing and our whole house was engulfed. There were sirens and lights from the fire trucks turning the flakes red and blue. By the time they got there, all they could do was keep it contained to our yard.”