Even though the cruise control was on and set to seventy-six miles per hour, which was one mile over the speed limit along Interstate 40, JJ still eyed the speedometer. Yes, he confirmed, they were traveling at 76 mph. If anything, that was slowpoke speed along this stretch of the highway, but you could never be too careful, especially when you were carrying contraband.
The two men had driven nonstop except to fill up. The sooner they delivered their cargo, the better it would be.
With that thought came some muffled sounds from deep inside the Chevy Suburban’s camper. Not good, he thought.
JJ turned to his right. Keebler was asleep in the passenger seat, as he had been since they’d last stopped for gas. Damn Keebler could sleep anywhere. JJ’s associate had the face of one of the Keebler elves: big cheeks, big ears, and a doughy expression. His resemblance to the elves ended there. Keebler was a big guy. His talent wasn’t in making cookies; he was good at hurting people.
“Hey, Keebler. Wake up.”
The man blinked a few times, then gave him a non-elf-like scowl. Keebler didn’t like having his sleep interrupted, but what he liked even less was waking up to someone calling him by his nickname.
JJ said, “I need you to keep your eyes open for a quiet place to pull over. It’s time for you to play doctor with our cargo.”
“Shit. Let’s just pull over and get it done.”
They were about fifty miles east of Flagstaff. Around them was Arizona high desert country mostly devoid of any towns or structures.
“I’m not just pulling over on the shoulder. That would be an invitation for any curious cop to stop and talk.”
Keebler pointed to a sign and said, “Meteor Crater, next exit.”
“You think it’s a good idea for you to play doc in the middle of some tourist attraction?”
“I go in the back, I shoot her up,” Keebler said. “No fuss, no muss. And maybe we take a look at that meteor.”
“It’s no meteor. It’s a big hole in the ground where a meteor struck.”
“That’s all that’s there? A hole in the ground?”
“It’s like a mile wide. It’s what they call an impact crater.”
“Lucky me, that I get to travel with Dr. Science,” Keebler said.
A third voice entered the conversation, a moan finding its way out of the confines of the cargo hold. JJ didn’t want to admit it, but there was something spooky about hearing the woman’s disembodied voice.
“Get the dose ready. We’re no more than five hours from Vegas. Let’s play it safe and make sure she’s out of it for the next eight hours.”
Sighing, Keebler reached into the glove compartment and took out a medical traveling pouch. He unzipped it, revealing syringes and vials. Keebler started going through the vials, studying the different dosages.
“Not too much, but not too little. I’m sure MM is going to want to meet his new friend tonight, and he won’t want her all drugged up.”
“If you’re so concerned with it being just right, Goldilocks,” Keebler said, “maybe you should be playing doctor instead of me.”
“Take it easy. I’m just trying to spare you from getting on MM’s bad side. But if you don’t care about that, do whatever you want.”
MM was their employer, Max Miller—or at least that was their explanation for the acronym if others were around. But the truth of the matter was that MM was an abbreviation for something else. Moon Man. There was some history that came with that nickname.
Mentioning MM made Keebler look around uneasily. “We’re not looking at the next full moon for another couple weeks, right?”
“We’re good. We’re entering the waning gibbous cycle.”
JJ liked saying things like waning gibbous and waxing crescent. Then again, knowing the phases of the lunar cycle allowed them to be forewarned.
“Thought so,” said a relieved Keebler.
MM did not stand for Max Miller as much as it did for Moon Man. Both of the men had worked for their employer long enough to be convinced his psyche—and his madness—could be tied to the lunar cycle. Their boss’s behavior became more and more erratic with the approach of the full moon.
One could go so far as to say their Moon Man was a true lunatic.
“Twenty-three more days until the next full moon,” JJ said.
Both men exhaled some pent-up air. Each of them was exceedingly well paid for their work, but for a few days every month it meant walking around on eggshells and trying to keep their boss from being totally bonkers.
“Sign says there’s a rest stop at Meteor Crater,” Keebler said.
JJ blew out a little more air. “We’ll pull over and see what it looks like. But it’s a no-go if there’s anyone nearby.”
He raised his nose, did some sniffing, and thought he detected an acrid odor. “You’re also going to need to change her Depends.”
“Shit,” Keebler said.