“Shit,” Nora shouted. “Shit, shit, fucking shit!”
“Fucking shit,” Jessica agreed from the back seat.
Nora rolled her window down and hurled the badge into the darkness. Wind whipped into the car, sending tendrils of her thin, ponytailed hair loose around her cheeks. She closed the window and forced her now-trembling hands back to ten and two.
“So, uh,” said Charlie. “That was weird.”
“They were tracking us,” Nora said. “They know which direction we’ve gone.”
“But they’re not tracking us now?” said Charlie.
“No,” said Nora. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Cool. So we can go anywhere then, and they can’t find us, right?”
“I guess. But we have nowhere to go, Charlie.” Nora’s adrenaline was ramped up to “bear attack” mode. Which, to be fair, was only a few levels higher than where it usually sat, roughly between “pop quiz” and “we need to talk,” but still. The thundering of her heart was deafening. “We can’t go to either of our homes, they’ll look for us there. And for all I know there’s a S.C.Y.T.H.E.-wide alert with my info, telling agents across the country to keep an eye out for us.”
“Okay, so we leave the country.”
“Hilarious. Be reasonable, Charlie.”
“You’re telling me you don’t keep your passport on you at all times these days?”
“You’re telling me you actually packed yours?”
“Duh, you said we were going on a road trip. That usually means getting shit-faced in Tijuana at some point.”
“Where would we even go?”
“Tiju—”
“Not Tijuana, Charlie.”
Charlie shrugged and stuck a hand in the pocket of Nora’s coat, pulling out the photo of their father and his friends.
“In that case, Virgo Bay, Nova Scotia sounds pretty peachy right now,” he said. “Maybe these two wildcats are still there. Free room and board, plus a nice little change of scenery.”
An eighteen-wheeler entered Nora’s rearview mirror. It was the only other vehicle they’d shared the highway with so far that evening. Charlie was still talking, his voice animated, but Nora could no longer hear the words. In the panic over her name badge, she’d temporarily forgotten about the threat to Charlie, but last she’d checked he was still fated to die in a car accident on the highway. The truck drew up beside them on the right, and she allowed herself a peek inside the truck’s cab, as if the driver would be twirling a moustache like a villain in an old cartoon. Instead he seemed like a perfectly average, three-dimensional man; white-haired, a round belly resting against the steering wheel. But his eyes drifted closed for longer than a blink before jolting open again.
Nora looked around, eager to change lanes, but there were only the two. The truck kept pace, though it drifted occasionally, ever so slightly, over the line separating it from Nora’s car.
“Charlie,” Nora said, swerving a little towards the concrete barrier between highways as the truck crept towards them again. Charlie followed his sister’s head tilt to the truck on the passenger side. He looked back at Nora, eyebrows raised enough to crease his forehead with a look that said, “That guy?”
The swerving grew more aggressive with each passing mile, but Nora couldn’t seem to pass the truck. Each time she sped up, the giant tires started to clip at her car’s paint. After a few roundsof this, she noticed the swerving had developed a rhythm. Every eight to ten seconds, the truck weaved into Nora’s lane, farther each time, before promptly righting itself again. She dared a look through the passenger window, and through her mind’s eye the truck plowed through the lines and straight into the car, into the passenger side, into Charlie. The last time it had made its way into their lane, the truck’s force had actually given Nora’s car a small push. The next time could very well be the last. She counted to eight and slammed on the brakes just as the truck pummeled its way into their lane, straight through the barrier dividing the highway, and inexplicably emerged intact on the other side.
Nora ducked as the tail of the truck careened past them, narrowly missing the car’s bumper. She dragged Charlie down into a huddle on his seat, and they remained crouched until the roar of the truck’s wheels faded into the distance. Finally, Nora sat back upright, just in time to catch the truck weaving away in the opposite direction.
“Are you okay?” Nora rasped, mouth dry, eyes still fixated on the disappearing truck.
“Yeah, all good,” said Charlie. “You?”
Nora could only give a weak nod.
“Jessica, you all right back there, baby?” Charlie asked the bird in the back seat.
“Fuck,” Jessica squawked.
“That’s what I like to hear,” said Charlie. “So, Virgo Bay?”
