“The other woman was named Rachel or Rachelle. I can’t remember. She cut her throat out there on the porch while screaming about birds. I don’t recall the man’s name. He was a short time after Tom died. He wanted to hunt with me, and I let him until he began eating the Death Dealers we caught. I had to put him down.”
“Is that why you lock me up? Do you think I’ll go crazy and eat you?” Odessa asks, and I spot a slight smile on her beautiful face.
“The Highway turns people feral.”
“What about Tom? He sounds evil but also like he wasn’t crazed.”
“I initially thought the cabin kept him and me safe, but the others were here when they lost control. I don’t know why some remain sane and others don’t.”
“Did Tom build this cabin?”
“No. It’s here because it’s here in the other world. Why else would we have electricity, running water, and occasional TV reception?”
“Who are the people in the pictures in the hallway?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always assumed they were the people in the other cabin. This place exists because it was built in the other place.”
“Did Tom want to be here like you do?”
“I don’t know. He lied about how he arrived here. His lips tightened when he lied. It was his tell.”
“What if I don’t go feral and try to eat you?”
“I suppose you can come out of the room. Though I’ve left a large hole in your wall so locking you inside might prove difficult.”
“The sun is going down,” Odessa says, turning on the couch and placing her feet on the ground. “Will the wolves come in through the hole?”
“They’re too large. The ones I saw eat Tom’s body were at least four hundred pounds. We should keep the door locked tonight in case something else comes inside.”
“What else is there?”
“I don’t know.”
Odessa rolls her eyes at my answer, and I’m surprised by her demeanor. I expected more tears or ranting after her discovery. The others refused to accept what they saw. Mary cried a lot and begged me to wake her up. The man said he was insane and locked up somewhere. He thought this place was a fantasy, so he embraced it without mercy. I can’t recall the other woman’s reaction. She wasn’t here long or hadn’t proved all that memorable.
If Odessa goes insane and I’m forced to put her down, I hope to remember her for a long time.
Chapter Eleven
Odessa
Quill doesn’t offer his bedroom for the night. He doesn’t even seem to consider I might want to sleep. We sit in the living room, long past sundown. He says nothing. Not even when he stands to lock down the house. I see how he removes my suitcase and bag from the room before locking it again. When he sits in the chair, Quill returns to staring at me.
I take the TV remote and click through channel after channel of static. After Quill secures the cabin, I finally land on a visible episode of Tom & Jerry, but the signal goes out after a few minutes.
“You’ll need to get accustomed to fewer comforts now that you’re in the Lost Highway.”
Focusing on his face shrouded in darkness, I ask, “Do you miss your old life?”
“No.”
Finding the static soothing, I leave on the TV. I relax on the couch and watch Quill. He seems otherworldly in the dark room with the flickering light dancing on his face.
“Are you ever scared here?”
“No.”
“Were you ever scared in your old life?”
Quill doesn’t answer. His menacing gaze bothers me, but I won’t look away. Nothing in this cabin is as reassuring as looking at him.
“What would you be doing if I hadn’t come here?”
“What I’m doing right now.”
“Staring at the couch?”
“Yes.”
“That’s very interesting.” When Quill doesn’t react, I squirm lower under the blanket. “This is more comfortable than the mattress in the other room.”
Quill says nothing for the longest time, but the silence isn’t so bad when he’s around versus when I’m alone.
“You haven’t asked for food,” he finally says.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Hunger isn’t a problem in the Lost Highway. Eating is a choice here.”
“Yet the Death Dealers cannibalize.”
“Eating humans is a strong taboo. Killing and consuming fellow human beings is as primal as one can become.”
“Have you eaten anyone?”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to go primal?”
“No.”
“Do the other Death Dealers think you’re a goody-two-shoes for not eating them?”
Quill doesn’t respond, but I laugh quietly at the thought of peer pressure between killers. My humor fades as my thoughts return to what Quill insists on calling a closet. The voices still echo in my mind, and I know they’re waiting for me downstairs.
“I’m going to sleep now,” I say, shivering under the thick blanket.
My gaze notices the bandage Quill wrapped around my leg. I haven’t felt the pain in hours.
“Are you going to bed?” I ask him after my eyelids grow heavy.
“No.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
In the dark room, I can’t read his expression. I only know he says he’ll stay with me tonight, and I believe him. Quill is scary and emotionless, but I believe he’s also the best and sanest Death Dealer in the Lost Highway.
Chapter Twelve
Quill