When Kit woke up, Gannon was driving and they were on a two-lane country road.
A sign for US 385 flew past the passenger window. The country beyond it was a flat, wide-open landscape. It looked like Wyoming except the mountains were gone.
She felt woozy as she sat up. A pleasant woozy like a beer buzz.
A trailer home went past. Kit saw a kid, a cute blond little boy, on a swing in the dirt yard beside it. In a pen behind the double-wide on the other side was a foal.
“Oh, look, a little baby horse,” she said.
“How are you feeling?” Gannon said.
“Tired. Where are we?”
“Oklahoma,” he said.
“Oklahoma?”
“Yep.”
She looked up at the big sky above, gray and overcast, like it was about to rain. The land was shadowed off to their left. It looked to be near sunset.
As she looked out the window, what had happened started to come back slowly. She remembered the FBI building. The horrible EMT man. After that there were just snapshots. Being strapped to a gurney. The sound of shooting. She remembered lying on her back next to a car in a parking lot.
She couldn’t put the rest of the pieces together. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. She patted at her numb face.
“Wait, is this the rental car?”
“No,” Gannon said. “I acquired another one. Another two, actually.”
She looked at the steering column then. It was cracked open and there was a screwdriver handle sticking out of it. The seats and the rest of the inside of the vehicle seemed really big.
“What is this? A truck?” she said.
“Yes. It’s a dumpster truck,” Gannon said as he cocked a thumb toward the back. “Beggars can’t be choosers. How are you feeling?”
“Groggy.”
Gannon laughed.
“You look groggy. I got you a Gatorade. You need to hydrate. Try to flush your system.”
She carefully lifted it out of the cup holder. The sports drink was the red fruit punch one. She laboriously opened it, then sighed after she took a long cool sip.
She dropped the bottle back and wiped her mouth.
“That tasted good. This is a great drink holder,” she said.
Gannon laughed again.
“I know!” he cried. “I thought the same thing. The tongues on it really grip, don’t they? This thing corners like a cinder block and guzzles gas like crazy but the drink holders are amazing.”
“Are the cops after us?”
“No,” Gannon said. “I saw the news in the gas station. No APBs. No video stills. We’re in the clear so far. I guess this Warner woman is covering this up somehow. Besides, those guys back in Denver weren’t cops.”
“Mercenaries? Special Forces guys?”
“Yep,” Gannon said.
“Like you?” she said.
“Yep,” Gannon said again. “Like me.”
“No,” Kit said, shuddering as she remembered the troll-like man who’d slapped her. “No way, you’re not like them at all.”
A minute of silence followed. Kit looked out at the empty land. Since the setting sun was on the left, they must have been heading somewhat north now. She felt an odd elation as they drove, a teenager on her first road trip. It made no sense but there you had it.
“What do you think they gave me? Was it OxyContin or something?”
“No, ketamine, probably.”
“The club drug?”
“Emergency rooms use it as a sedative. Intelligence services, too, because it induces memory loss. You’re feeling it, huh?”
“Got a kick to it. What now?”
“Take a nap. You’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” she said curling up by the door.
“You’re a gentleman, too, huh?” she said after another second.
Gannon laughed.
“You think so?”
“Sure. Gentlemen save damsels in distress, right? Gentleman, ass-kicker, funny, smart, cute. You cover all the bases. A girl could fall for a guy like you, Mike. Even in a dumpster truck. You oughta be careful. Where are we going anyway?” she said, half-asleep.
“Back to Barber’s ranch,” Gannon said.
“That’s in Utah. Isn’t Oklahoma the other way?”
“I called John. There’s an old airfield nearby. We’re going to meet him there. He’ll fly us back.”
“Perfect,” Kit said, smiling with her eyes closed.
“I have one more question,” she said sleepily after a moment.
“What’s that?” Gannon said.
“You really do have a navy SEAL frogman tattoo somewhere, don’t you?” she said.
Gannon laughed and then laughed again a moment later when he heard her snoring.
He leaned over as far as he could and bent as low as he could toward her ear.
“Yes,” he whispered into it. “Yes, I do, Kit. I really do.”