A sliver of pale sky slit the horizon. The road they were on was bare, off the main highway. In the distance a bird squalled like a dying cat. Sam’s neck was stiff, and he felt the bones clicking inside it as he stretched. In the front of the car, Jon was asleep, rolled on his side, snoring into his armpit. But the driver’s seat—Dettie’s seat—was empty.
Beside him, faced in his direction, Sam could see Katie’s eyes open wide, white and glistening, staring past him at nothing. He took hold of the material of her shirt and pulled on it, but she stayed stiff and didn’t blink. Eventually, she shook her head. He yanked again, but she lifted a finger to her lips and pointed through the window on his side. Turning, Sam listened too, until above the chittering insects and the warble of birds, he could hear a strained voice hissing insistently behind them.
‘This is not the worst of it,’ it said. ‘There’s more. More time. Just tired. Get through it. Halfway already. Still moving. On the way. Just never. On the way. Don’t stop. Never. Keep watch.’ Dettie’s voice shuddered in a quick rhythm, the stream of words only broken when she gasped for breath. ‘Should call again. Given him a chance. He’ll know. He knows.’ She sounded hoarse, as if she’d been muttering to herself for hours. ‘Let him know. Worried sick. We’re coming. Still coming. Joanne will have called by now. They’ll talk. He’ll have talked. Made it. They’ll make it. All there. Still there.’
Sam stole a look at her through the back window. Strands of hair were pulled loose from her usually tight bun. She was sucking at a cigarette, hugging herself, bobbing while she walked. They were parked in a rest stop about the length of a soccer field from a cliff face, and Dettie was staring out at the hazy ocean.
Katie’s bottom lip shivered. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ she whispered.
Feeling a stinging heat rising behind his cheeks, Sam shook his head. He shrugged.
Dettie’s shoes were grinding a tight circle in the grey stones beneath her. It was like watching an animal pace the edges of its cage. She was glaring, but her attention kept jerking from the trees to the road, to her hands. Smoke lapped at her face and she blinked heavily through it. Another mournful birdcall whipped the air and Dettie tilted upwards, listening, until suddenly she flashed a look through the car window at Sam.
He ducked, and Katie stiffened beside him, her clenched teeth showing between her lips. They could hear footsteps crackling towards them, and Dettie’s voice dipped to an indistinct mumble. Sam realised that both he and Katie had their hands clasped tight on their doorhandles.
A shadow passed Katie’s head and they jumped as Dettie leant in through the driver’s side window.
‘Good to see you’re both up already. Bright and early.’ She tried to keep her voice low, but it came out as a gravelled hiss. Her clothes stank of nicotine.
‘How are you kids? You tired? Hungry? Do you want something to nibble on? I’ve got some Life Savers somewhere.’ She opened the door and knelt halfway inside. The suspension squealed. ‘Or there could be some biscuits. No, we finished those, didn’t we? Good. Not filling. I had two. Jon had a chocolate one. And those horrid birds took the last couple, didn’t they? Sixteen biscuits like that—gone.’ She snapped her fingers.
In the car’s cabin-light, blotchy shadows hung beneath her eyes. As she smiled, Sam could see a fleck of tobacco stuck between her front teeth. ‘Here we go,’ she said, holding out a scrunched tube of mints, torn open, on her palm. The wrapper and the foil clung to her skin.
Katie was sniffling, and Sam shook his head, kicking the back of Jon’s seat until he began to stir.
Dettie picked the hair off one mint and pushed it between her lips, almost burning herself with the cigarette still in her fingers. She flicked her hand, loosening a spray of orange embers that tumbled over the upholstery.
‘Oh, for pity’s sake,’ she spat, dusting more ash into the headrest.
Calmly stretching his arms, Jon sat up. As he did he made a noise in his throat like creaking wood. ‘You right, love?’ he asked, ruffling his beard.
Dettie coughed, surprised, and put a hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she choked. ‘Just a little—just tired. Couldn’t drop off last night. Headaches.’ She took two sharp breaths. ‘But a drop of coffee and I’ll be right. Right as rain.’
‘Good to hear,’ Jon said. He rolled over to look at Katie and Sam. ‘And how about you lot? How’d you sleep?’
Neither moved. Sam kept glancing at Dettie, watching her teeter as she bent closer to them.
‘I’m scared,’ Katie finally whispered.
Jon tutted. ‘You got scared?’
She tugged at her seatbelt. ‘No—’
‘We were just sorting out breakfast, weren’t we?’ Dettie said, popping open her purse to thumb through her cash. ‘Trying to pick something to eat. Now Sammy, you’ll want bacon and eggs, I know. And Katie, I bet you’d love an omelette and some orange juice.’ Her voice was melodic.
Katie mouthed something.
‘I think I remember a sign. Yes. I saw a sign that said there’s a service station. Fifteen minutes or so up the road.’ Dettie pointed with her dead cigarette.
‘I want cereal,’ Katie’s voice creaked.
‘Somewhere near that horse farm we went past, I think,’ Dettie was rearranging the weight of the handbag on her knees. ‘Great big sign it was.’
‘What’s that, my sweet?’ Jon nodded towards Katie.
‘Hmm?’ Dettie spun towards him, her lips pursed. ‘That huge sign we passed,’ she sighed. ‘Not far back. We’re talking about eating something.’
Jon smiled, blinking at her, and gestured to Katie. ‘Sorry, love,’ he said. ‘I meant our littlest lady.’
Katie lifted herself up on her arms. ‘I don’t want an omelette,’ she said, her voice more forceful. More natural. ‘Or orange juice. I want cereal.’
‘Cereal?’ Dettie scoffed. ‘You don’t have to eat cereal. We’re on a big trip. Special. It’s a treat. I’m treating you.’
Katie shook her head. ‘Muesli.’
Dettie sighed. ‘Well, they probably won’t have muesli,’ she said. ‘Truck drivers don’t eat it much.’
Scowling, Katie slumped, her head sinking into her shoulders.
‘Goodness, girl, I don’t know why you have to make things so difficult.’
‘You know,’ Jon cleared his throat softly, ‘I think I’ve seen cereal for sale at those places. Little boxes.’
Dettie snapped her purse closed and waved it, her nails digging into the leather. ‘Oh, fine. That’s fine then. Whatever you all want. You decide. Just be sure to let me know. I am only the driver, after all.’ She turned and settled herself behind the wheel.
Jon hummed, glancing briefly at the children. ‘I can drive for an hour or two, love,’ he said. ‘If you want to rest a spell.’
‘No, no, I’ll do it,’ she sang, almost laughing. ‘I’ll drive. I’ll buy the food. I’ll plan the trip.’ She shoved the purse down into her handbag. ‘And I’ll be the wicked old witch while I’m at it too, shall I?’
She shot a glare back at Sam and Katie through the rear-vision mirror. Her expression was all the more frightening for its bloodshot eyes and the shadows that still hung on her skin.
As the car started, its headlights snapped across a fence just ahead of them. Dettie reversed and Sam saw a sheep’s skull caught in a twist of barbed wire. Behind them the sky was seething red.