Charlie had the decent foresight to fish the truck keys from Dottie’s pockets before they made a bigger mess of the station. Ash had taken her bat to every single one of Dottie’s CICADA tapes. Her arms would be protesting for days.

At least they’d gotten to use the restroom and clean up as best they could. The truck bed reeked of old cigarette smoke (thanks Dottie), sweat, dried blood, and an odor Ash couldn’t identify, but she was pretty sure bug guts coated the bottom of her shoes.

“Why did you bring that?” Cal asked from the driver’s seat, glancing in her lap.

Ash patted Jerry the armadillo’s freshly dusted nose. “Souvenir.”

They rolled down the dark road back toward the main highway. In the side mirror, Ash could see the glow of the fires. Now they drove off, the cicada secured in the truck bed like some sort of hunting trophy, the camcorders and precious tapes gathered in the backseat.

Ash took a long breath, the first easy one since the day had started and leaned her head against the cool window. Something winked on and off ahead and she furrowed her brow. At first, she suspected a trauma induced hallucination or maybe a chemical high delusion. But Cal must have seen the same thing since he eased off the gas.

Ash cackled. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

There, on the shoulder of the road, arms pumping, tiny lights winking in and out on her heels, was Eileen. Power walking back toward the highway. Her sweatsuit was caked with mud and her short, gray hair was so littered with pine needles she looked like she had a hedgehog perched on her head. But she was alive.

And booking it.

Charlie rolled down the window. “Miss Eileen, I love you!”

Eileen’s mouth twitched, lips pursed as she breathed steadily, eyes straight ahead as they rolled alongside her. “Wondered when y’all would show up. Thought I’d have to walk all the way to 22. And I’d have done it, too!”

“I’ve no doubt,” Ash said, wiping a tear. “But how about you hitch the rest of the way with us?”

Charlie shuffled over and Miss Eileen climbed in the back with a huff. “Mercy,” she groaned as the seat enveloped her. Then she wrinkled her nose. “It stinks to high heaven in here. What did y’all step in?”

“Don’t ask,” Cal said.

It was only minutes before soft snores sounded from the back. Ash turned to see Eileen, head thrown back on the seat, mouth open. Charlie was curled up on the seat beside her, long legs tucked in, and her head cushioned on her backpack. Ash settled in her own seat, absently petting Jerry as they made their way toward the highway.

“So,” Cal said, not looking at her. Or maybe just avoiding Jerry’s dead eyes. “Assuming we don’t end up in jail, is the first round still on you?”

“A drink would be nice,” she agreed. “But no ice cream. And no movies.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ash shut her eyes. She really could get used to this.