They stopped for milk shakes at a dusty curbside burger joint, slurping them down while seated at a picnic table, a yellow and white umbrella over their heads for shade. At one point, when Ellie got up to use the restroom, David went inside the place and bought a road map and a pen. His phone had GPS but he was reluctant to use it. Opening up the map at the picnic table, he found their current location, which was halfway across Kansas, then located the area in Colorado where he knew Funluck Park to be. He penned some calculations in the margin, estimating the time it would take to get to the park in Colorado, and then how long it would take to make it to Wyoming from there. It was a lot of driving.
A man in white shirtsleeves and dusty slacks ambled over to the Oldsmobile. David glanced up at him and watched him, unobserved. The man was spooning frozen custard from a Styrofoam cup into his mouth while he walked around the front of the Oldsmobile. He was a large fellow with an expansive midsection. Beads of perspiration stood out on his sun-pinked forehead. The man turned and saw David staring at him.
“Ninety-nine Cutlass, am I right?” said the man, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the car.
“You’re right,” David said.
“Used to have one just like it, ’cept in powder blue. How many miles?”
“More than you’d think.”
“Don’t you know mine went for just over three hundred thousand? And she was still purring when I sold her for five hundred bucks to some teenager.”
David forced a grin. He was uncomfortable talking to the man. Something about the guy reminded him of Detective Watermere.
Ellie came out of the bathroom and joined David at the table. She wasted no time popping the milk shake straw back into her mouth.
“That your boy?” the man said. David watched as the stranger shoveled another spoonful of frozen yogurt into his mouth.
David nodded, hoping the man would take the hint that he was not interested in conversation.
“Well, then. You folks have a good one.” The man raised a hand and ambled off, apparently taking the hint. A minute or two later, the man pulled out onto the roadway behind the wheel of a silver Honda. He tapped the horn twice, waved at David, then motored on down the highway.
“Who was that?” Ellie asked.
“Don’t know. Just a guy.” But he hadn’t liked his questions, hadn’t liked the way he’d been looking at the car. Scrutinizing the car.
Midway through his milk shake—mint chocolate chip, his favorite ever since he was a kid—his cell phone trilled. He saw the blocked caller ID and worried that Tim’s plans had changed.
“Yeah, hello,” he said, answering the call.
“Is this David Arlen?” A man’s voice, frank and clipped. He didn’t wait for a confirmation. “My name’s Craddock. I’ve taken over the CDC’s northeast operations formerly overseen by Dr. Kapoor.”
“You guys are relentless. You tell Kapoor he can go jump off a goddamn bridge.”
“Kapoor’s dead,” said Craddock. “Most of his staff are, too. I’ve been flown in from Atlanta to pick up where he left off. You and your daughter, Mr. Arlen, are our number-one priority at the moment.”
“I don’t give a shit. I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t be so reactionary. You and I need to talk. ASAP. Wherever you are, I’ll go there and meet you, face-to-face. We don’t need to involve your daughter at this point. I understand your reservations. I just want to talk with you and explain things.”
David barked a laugh into the phone. “Meet me? Are you serious? You’ll never find me.”
“We will,” Craddock said. There was not a waver in his voice. “It may take some time, but we’ll find you eventually. I just hope it isn’t too late by then.”
“You can keep your threats.”
“You keep answering your phone,” Craddock said. “There must be some part of you that questions what you’re doing. What happened to your wife will not happen to Eleanor.”
“Empty promises,” David said.
“And then there is you, Mr. Arlen. Your condition. How long do you think you can keep this up?”
David stepped away from the table, out of Ellie’s earshot. She watched him go.
“Have the hallucinations started?” Craddock said. “The nosebleeds?”
“Lies,” David growled into the phone. “I’m not an idiot.”
“We can’t help you, Mr. Arlen,” Craddock said, his voice as smooth as silk sheets, “but we can help your daughter. And your daughter can help the world.”
“You’re just trying to trick me.”
“For what purpose? Do you think my goal here is to torment you and torture your little girl? No, Mr. Arlen. My goal is to save people. I can understand why you’re not convinced of that at the moment, so that is why I’m asking you to sit down and talk with me. Let’s reach an agreement. An understanding. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Go to hell,” David said.
“You can’t run forever,” Craddock said. “Based on the results of your last blood test, I can’t image you have much time left at all.”
“We’re gone,” David said into the phone. “Do you hear me? We’re gone. And if you keep this up—if the cops or the CDC or the fucking FBI or whoever else continues to look for us—I will personally hunt you down and kill you. Do you hear me?”
“David—”