Also, horror and apocalypse did not lurk in the near future.
Ever since they crossed into Connecticut, the mood inside the car had begun to mimic the concrete-and-evergreen landscape along the interstate: murky and unrepairable. Their rare exchanges escalated into Kerri’s anger in shorter and shorter times. Andy had tried to mitigate the gloom with snacks and candy when they first stopped for gas, only to realize once back in the car that neither of them was hungry. A carnival of plastic wrappers sat now self-consciously on the dashboard, like guests to a garden party after somebody drowned in the pool. Tim had been the only beneficiary of that purchase, which explained why he was now bouncing between the backseat and the trunk and going Baskervilles on the upholstery like a sugar-powered dingo.
“Can you tell him to stop?” Andy begged.
Kerri looked into the front mirror. “Tim!”
The dog swiftly sat down, stiff like an Egyptian jackal god, throwing a Terminatorish I’ll be back glance at the armrest.
“Thank you,” said Kerri.
Andy smiled as the dog in the mirror nervously sniffed for more chewable car parts.
“You’re great with him.”
Kerri bit a fingernail, eyes back on the curb line. Her hair had been dozing off since morning.
“Kerri. I’m scared too, all right?”
“So you keep saying, but I’m the only one longing for adult pull-ups.”
“Listen, it’s not gonna be like before. It’s gonna be you, me, Nate, and Tim. Together. All the time. None of that ‘let’s split up’ bullshit Peter always came up with.” She resented criticizing Peter’s field strategies so early into her leadership, but whatever. “And we’re grown-ups, right? Look at us. We’re better prepared; we got a car. We’re not riding bikes anymore; if things get ugly, we just drive away.” She hadn’t really thought about this before, but she believed it now. She patted the steering wheel, though not too hard, for fear the Chevy Vega would disassemble. “Hell, the whole town is gonna look different. And a lot smaller. You’ll see; remember how huge Debo?n Mansion seemed? I bet you we’ll get there and we’ll wonder how could we be scared of that tiny little cottage. Shit, I bet you even the lake will look like a pond.”
“I doubt that. It’s the second-deepest lake in the Americas after O’Higgins in southern Chile.”
“Really? That’s as deep as…what, Lake Superior?”
“Twice as deep.” Kerri shifted on her seat, eyes fixed on the blurry asphalt. “It was a sort of collapsed volcano that the Zoinx River flowed into. The rest of the river disappeared for centuries before the gap was filled.”
“See, that’s the Kerri Hollis we need!” Andy cheered, laughing at her automatic shyness. “Kerri the Encyclopedia. ‘The brains of the team’!”
“Shit. You remember that.”
“Course I do. I’m sorry, I snooped around your place a little last night. I saw you keep the Telegraph too. My copy is somewhere in Tulsa, I think. Hey, at least you got a cool nickname.”
“She kind of gave you one too,” Kerri recalled. “You were not afraid, ‘despite being a girl’!” They delivered the quote together.
“Thanks for reminding me,” said Andy. “Can you believe a woman wrote that?”
Kerri gave her a tender look—the first one this side of the Harlem River. “It was meant to be a compliment, you know?”
Andy innerstruggled to keep her focus on the road.
“So, why was Nate put in Arkham? Why so far from home? His mother doesn’t like him?”
“He committed himself; he’s all grown up too,” said Kerri. “And he doesn’t live with his mother anymore. He doesn’t like her.”
A trailer truck roared past them.
“You ever visit him?”
“Not in Arkham, no. I saw him when he was in this other place upstate last year, McLean Hospital or something.”
“Why does he do it? Commit himself?”
“He thinks it’s good for him. He says it’s like a vacation. He spends the rest of his time buried in fantasy books and computers.”
“Why doesn’t he just go outside?”
“You know. He doesn’t like people.” She paused. “He always had issues.”
Andy waited for a development, then inquired, “What kind of issues?”
“You know.” Kerri was looking away again. “Broken home. Father left, mother drank. That’s why Aunt Margo took him in every school break. He had bouts of depression. He was bullied at school. All that.”
“Really? He seemed fine when he was with us.”
“Yeah. We were that awesome.”
Andy registered a rest area after the next exit. “Do you still want to go?”
Kerri consulted with her digestive system. “No. I’m fine. But I could use some cigarettes.”
Andy decided the nicotine would help her relax, so she pulled over.
—
They parked close to the highway, only a ten-feet-wide strip of incredibly resilient plant life away from the flow of eighteen-wheeled trucks. The world was wide and flat and smelled like oil. And it was mostly gray and damp and ugly. But for the last few minutes the cloudscape was shattering in patches of blue and the sun peeped through in funny angles, creating cool chiaroscuro effects, sparkling off the drizzle-washed amber bodywork of the Chevy Vega and infusing it with supporting character charisma.
Andy stepped out and touched the asphalt with her fingers. She always liked the feel of transit places. They’re thankful for the attention. Sunlight painted the scene with unsolicited detail: the plainest blade of spartan grass, the skin on Andy’s hand.
Tim escaped the car right after Kerri and ran off into the wild like a wolf released to repopulate New England. She called after him in vain.
“Christ, if only that energy could be harnessed,” she grunted, and turned to Andy. “Try and make sure he doesn’t, you know, go feral, eat children, and listen to satanic music.”
She headed to the minimarket, leaving Andy to try to imitate Kerri’s martial tone to call after the dog. Tim had hardly gotten used to Andy, but so far he seemed to respect her. In the old days, Sean was obedient to everyone in the group as well, but he performed his best with Kerri. Andy would have to win Tim over.
The Weimaraner reappeared in his own time, ever running, ears flapping in the wind, his crazed expression far from the “awaiting command” range.
Andy knelt down and put her hand forward. Tim approached to smell it, realized she had nothing important to tell him, and roamed off again.
“Hey, Tim! Come back! Come!”
He trotted back describing a wide arc, every pebble on the way deserving his hummingbird attention. Andy was checking her pockets for a treat when her fingers touched something better.
She did a quick mental self-inspection: despite all the tempers and the impending doom, she felt fine since she had reunited with Kerri. Maybe it was time to pass her security blanket on.
“Come here, boy. Come here.”