Chapter 3
THREE
Maren gripped the wheel as her gaze darted between the rearview mirror looking for headlights following her and the empty road ahead.
Juni watched Maren from her car seat, clutching the remnants of Mr. Kibble and the Fairy doll.
Maren had no idea whatsoever about who or what she’d find at the end of their…
she couldn’t exactly call it a road trip.
Road trips were fun adventures, with small mishaps on the way that became funny stories long after.
This was a dead run for their lives, headed right for strangers who she wasn’t sure she could trust.
At least Maren had filled the tank before picking up Juni from school, so they made it all the way to Vegas before she’d felt safe enough to pull over for gas. Vegas was big, covered in cameras, and still awake at two in the morning, so Maren figured no one would try and grab them there.
Juni had been dozing since around midnight so she woke her up and got her to the bathroom then asked her what she wanted for road snacks.
Juni picked out a few things, then spotted the stuffed Snoopy holding a pair of fuzzy dice.
Maren took one look at her little girl holding the sad remains of Mr. Kibble and the Blue Fairy, and she put the Snoopy on the counter before she could talk herself out of spending the money.
Then they made the long, dark drive through Nevada and into Utah the rest of the night. Maren stopped at a Love’s in Cedar City around five-thirty a.m. There, she loaded up on caffeinated drinks for herself.
Can’t exactly swap out drivers when your traveling partner is still learning her ABCs.
The next stretch was the hardest through the empty desert, but at least the sun was rising—unfortunately, straight into her face.
She considered stopping at a station on the outskirts of Green River, but got spooked by the air of abandonment clinging to the area.
She was sure the locals were nice enough, but if anyone was following them, this would be the perfect place to grab them.
They coasted into Grand Junction an hour and a half later, Maren feeling shaky and tired from the caffeine and the drive.
Juni had been awake since Green River and was playing with Snoopy, Mr. Kibble the bear, and the Fairy, introducing them all to each other, with an apology from Kibbs and the Fairy for looking worse for the wear.
“We had to fight off some bad guys,” Juni whispered in Mr. Kibble’s gruff voice.
“I used my magic,” she added in a higher-pitched voice that Maren assumed was the Fairy.
Then she made Snoopy do a happy dance—right, Snoopy never talks in the cartoons, just makes those funny noises.
She blinked hard, trying to bring her focus back to the road.
“Let’s have something other than snacks for breakfast. Will that do?” she asked Juni.
“Yup, that’ll do. Can I have pancakes?”
Luckily, there was a golden arches attached to the gas station.
“You bet.” Golden arches coffee wasn’t half bad, but at this point, Maren didn’t care if it tasted like motor oil so long as it kept her sharp.
Her adrenaline was doing a great job all on its own keeping her awake and jumpy, but it could run dry at any point.
She was torn between finding a hotel room in Grand Junction or pushing on, but in the end, her adrenaline promised to keep her going, and that if she stopped she wouldn’t sleep anyway, and that would just make things worse.
“Pancakes for you, a sausage biscuit and enormous coffee for me.”
They got their food and found a table at the back of the restaurant away from the windows and near an exit.
Every time someone walked in, she clocked their face, noted if they looked around.
But luckily, everyone just looked like a tired traveler.
They finished breakfast, Juni unusually quiet, and hit the road again.
Maren wished she could have thoroughly enjoyed the scenery through the Rockies—though she did admire it at various points.
You had to be dead inside not to—but it was also a challenging drive.
The road winding through Glenwood Springs Canyon east of Grand Junction was lovely but nerve-wracking.
Beyond that, I-70 for all its width was still tricky with the altitude and the semis, and a few times she glanced at the speedometer in alarm when she realized she was doing eighty-five down what felt like a gentle slope.
Her brakes were going to hate her before they were through.
It started to cloud over around Vail, then half an hour later, the clouds turned to spitting snow, something Maren absolutely was not used to driving in, especially a wet, late-spring storm.
Her family had moved from Iowa to San Diego when she and Mira were little girls, long before getting their driver’s licenses.
Maren stuck to the right lane, slowed down, and let all the other cars pass her.
Juni watched silently out the window and Maren realized it was the first time the little girl had ever seen snow.
“It’s like the North Pole here, isn’t it?”
“Can we get out and play in the snow?” Juni asked, her face practically pressed up against the window.
Oh, sweetie. “I wish we could. It looks like fun. But I’m not sure where to exit and we really need to get to…where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” Juni asked, the faintest edge of whining in her voice, and Maren couldn’t blame her.
She’d been as good as gold for the entire trip—not complaining, not begging for things at the stations.
She hadn’t even asked for Snoopy. Instead, her brave little Juni, who not twenty-four hours ago expected to come home from school to her aunt and her toys and a bowl of ice cream for dessert had lost everything, and now her crazy aunt was driving them across the country without telling her anything.
“Juniper…”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No. Oh, gosh no, sweetie. You are the best. Why would you ask that?” If she hadn’t been worried about going off the road, she would have reached behind her for Juni’s hand.
“You call me Juniper when I’m in trouble or something bad is happening. I know something bad is happening but I don’t want to be in trouble, too.”
Okay, do not tear up. You need to see to drive.
“You are so far from being in trouble it’s not even funny,” Maren told her, which was a lie.
They were both in trouble. “You are the best road trip buddy anyone could hope for.” She checked the next road marker—she didn’t dare use the navigator and she’d ditched her phone for a burner in Vegas.
If she’d had the chance, she would have rented a car and ditched hers, but her choices were limited that late at night.
God, that sounded so much like something someone would do in one of the crime shows she loved to watch.
Watch, not live in.
The Eisenhower Tunnel was twenty miles away, according to the trucker’s atlas. They’d get to it in about fifteen minutes unless traffic slowed.
“We’re about to go into a great big tunnel. Once we’re past that, if the weather lets up, I can explain where we’re going. Right now, I have to concentrate on the road, okay?”
“Okay,” Juni immediately agreed, and Maren let out her breath. Raising Juni, she’d tried not to use “because I said so.” Nothing made Mira rebel harder as a girl than hearing those words, and Juni had inherited that gene.
She’d heard of the Eisenhower Tunnel but had no idea how long it was, and when they came out the other side after several minutes under all that rock, the weather was completely different.
No falling snow, no gray overcast—just puffy clouds and the bluest sky Maren had ever seen.
The bright snow on the mountains was almost painful to look at.
“Wow,” Juni said, echoing Maren’s thoughts. “It’s like magic.”
“Sure is.” She remembered from checking the map at breakfast that Georgetown was next, then Idaho Springs about half an hour down the road from the tunnel.
It felt strange but good to be relying on her memory instead of a navigator, plus it kept her mind off worrying.
So did the scenery. They were very close to where the finale for season two of BattleLore had been filmed last winter.
She shivered, looking at the snow-capped mountains and remembering the avalanche she’d read about.
“The weather’s better now…” Juni trailed off.
“It is.” Maren took a deep breath. “Junip—Juni. I’m taking you to meet your dad’s family in a place called Lyons, Colorado.”
At least I hope so. Because if this didn’t work, Maren had no idea what to do.
She glanced in the rearview to see Juni’s reaction. The little girl’s silver-gray eyes rounded, but in surprise or alarm, Maren couldn’t tell.
“My…dad? He lives here? I’m going to meet him?”
“You’re going to meet his family. I…don’t know much more than that, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Juni looked out the window. She lifted her stuffed animals to her mouth and whispered something to them. Then she met Maren’s gaze in the rearview.
“Is he in heaven like Mom?”
Maren blew out a breath. “I…” And now she was about to go back on her own principles and fib to Juni, but she didn’t want to upset the girl any further. “I’m…not sure.”
God, those words hurt to say.
Mira, if you’re up there listening, please, we need your help.
Then she added, And Sean Volker, if you’re there, too, please help me keep your daughter safe.