“We’re back,” she whispered to Danielle.
“So let’s get the hell out of here as fast as we can.”
“The speed limit is forty-five,” Gracie said.
“Screw that.”
But her sister’s emphasis wasn’t on the circumstance that they were back in Yellowstone, Gracie thought, but because she wanted to see Justin and talk to him. Talk him back onto Planet Danielle.
Simply being in the park wasn’t as horrifying to Gracie as she’s anticipated it would be. The things that had happened to them there were the result of evil people, not the place itself. She still had nightmares, but they weren’t about Yellowstone. Her nightmares came from what she saw and experienced when the door had opened to reveal evil and violence that until that trip had been closed to her. Now she knew what some people—despite their manner and packaging—were capable of. It still shook her to her core.
And there was a bizarre kind of symmetry going on, she thought. They’d met Justin and his father Cody in Yellowstone and the bonds they’d forged were so strong that here they were, some time later, going to see them in Montana.
Gracie didn’t know how she felt about leaving the interstate highway. Despite their size and dominance and the close encounter they’d had with one, the stream of big trucks was also reassuring because it meant there were people on the road if something went wrong. Now it felt like they would be alone out there.
* * *
They rounded a corner to a constellation of piercing green dots ahead in the road. Danielle braked and waited for the small herd of buffalo, whose eyes reflected back green in her headlights, to amble across the cracked blacktop.
“That’s why you shouldn’t go so fast,” Gracie said. “Can you imagine hitting one?”
“My poor car,” Danielle said, petting the dashboard.
Danielle had attached the GPS unit to the windshield by its suction cup assembly and after fumbling around for twenty minutes finally figured out how to plug it into the AC outlet. Its glow and brightly delineated roads and lines was a comfort to Gracie and made it seem less like they were in the middle of Siberia. The feature she prized the most was the readout that claimed they were three hours and thirty-eight minutes from Helena.
* * *
“Oh my God,” Danielle gasped.
Her tone frightened Gracie, who peered ahead on the two-lane to see what had alarmed her sister.
“No signal,” Danielle said, staring at her phone. “I forgot there’s no cell service in this stupid place.”
Gracie said, “I can’t believe you forgot that. Don’t you remember getting hysterical about it when we were here? I do.”
* * *
Gracie sniffed the air and asked, “What’s that smell?”
“What smell?”
“Like something burning. Don’t you smell it?”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“How do you know? It seems like it’s coming from the motor.”
“Because I know my own car,” Danielle said with anger. “She’s been running for hours and she’s probably getting tired. Just don’t worry.”
“You mean you’ve smelled this before?”
“Of course,” Danielle said. “Besides, we’re in Yellowstone with all the geysers and such. They all smell a little like toilets.”
But Gracie wasn’t sure she believed her.
* * *
There was a long straight run and Danielle obviously felt comfortable speeding up. To the south was a wide-open vista that stretched out for several miles until it butted against dark tree-covered foothills. A wide black river serpentined through the meadow, the surface of the inky water reflecting the sliver of moon and the stars. Elk and bison grazed near the banks framed by wisps of thermal steam. Huge white trumpeter swans nested in the tall grass near the river. Danielle seemed transfixed by the screen of her cell phone and the
NO SIGNAL
message where bars should have been.
“It’s really kind of pretty,” Gracie said.
“What is?”
“Look out there. You can see wildlife in the starlight.”
“I thought they were cows.”
“This is Yellowstone Park, Danielle,” Gracie said. “They don’t graze cows in a national park.”
Danielle seemed to be thinking it over. Then she said, “I heard cow farts are one of the leading causes of global warming. That’s why we shouldn’t eat so much red meat.”
Gracie sighed.
But as they started a slow turn away from the Lamar River valley, she noticed a tiny wink of light through the back window in her rearview mirror a long distance behind.
“At least we aren’t the only people on the road,” she said.
“What?”
* * *
As they crossed over a long expansion bridge with a thin angry river far below them, Gracie could see a smudge of light ahead coming from beyond a shoulder of mountain. Then a small wooden sign reading:
MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS, 2 MILES
. She glanced at the GPS. Three more hours.
“We’re just about out of the park,” she said.
“And I have a signal!” Danielle shrieked. As she said it her text box lit up.
“Two texts from Justin,” Danielle said. “That’s so sweet. He was worried about me.” To the phone, she said, “Don’t worry about me, J-Man. I’m coming to save you.” She began to text.
* * *
Fifteen minutes
LATER
, Danielle’s phone chirped. “He wants to know where we are.”
A beat passed, and Gracie said, “So tell him.”
“Where are we?”
Gracie sighed, looked at the GPS display, and said, “Tell him we’re in Montana again. We just drove through Mammoth Hot Springs and Gardiner and we’re going north on Highway 89.”
“Slow down,” Danielle said, tapping the keys.
“You could look at the screen, you know. It says we’re close to Yankee Jim Canyon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” her sister muttered.
The highway paralleled a river and there were high canyon walls on both sides. The night sky was a belt of stars straight above them, its expanse narrowed to a trough by the walls. Gracie thought the sky looked like a mirror of the river they were driving by.
Suddenly, the car lurched.
Gracie looked up, “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Danielle said. But when Gracie leaned over and checked the temperature gauge she saw the needle had not only entered the red but was pressed tight to the far corner of it. The engine lurched again and went silent. It was as if the soul of the little car had left it, leaving the slowly rolling husk.
“Oh, no,” Gracie said.
“What is it?” Danielle asked, frantic. The Ford slowed.
“Something happened to the motor. The steering wheel is all stiff.”
It was a struggle for Danielle to crank the wheel even a quarter of the way but she was able to slightly turn the front wheels. When she pressed on the brake it barely responded, as if the life had gone out of it.
“Oh, no,” Gracie said again as the little Ford coasted to a stop a few feet before the front bumper tapped a crooked delineator post. The headlights still shined and the GPS screen glowed, but the car was dead.
Danielle tried several times to start the motor but it simply produced a grinding sound. She pumped the gas furiously and tried again. Nothing.
“We’re going to be here
all night,
” Gracie cried.
“Shut up and don’t think the worst. Here, you try it,” Danielle said to her sister.
“What can
I
do?”
“I don’t know,” Danielle said, quickly getting out and walking over to Gracie’s side. She opened the door. “Scoot over and give it a try,” she said.
* * *
For the next few minutes, Gracie twisted the key in the ignition but the engine didn’t start. Instead, there was the angry grinding sound.
“I’m just draining the battery doing this,” she said.
“Did we run out of gas?” Danielle asked angrily.
“No, we have half a tank. It must have something to do with that engine light. The fricking light.”
“Are you sure you can’t get it started?”
“Do you want to try again?” Gracie asked, a crack in her voice.
“This is terrible.”
“No kidding.”
They sat in silence and darkness. The display on the GPS began to fade. Gracie could feel cold seeping into the car from the floorboards.
“I can’t call him,” Danielle said softly, sniffing back a tear. “I’ve lost the signal again in this fucking canyon.”
Gracie said, “We could walk back to Gardiner. It’s only a few miles back there, I think.”
“Or we should stay with the car,” Danielle said. “And wait for somebody to stop and help us.”
That’s when the headlights appeared on the road behind them.
Gracie cracked her door so the dome light would come on, but didn’t open it any further. She turned in her seat.
One set of headlights, coming fast. And a long string of amber running lights flowing behind, like the tail of a comet.
“It’s slowing down,” Gracie said.
“That’s friggin’ awesome.” Danielle grinned.
“Danielle … it’s that truck.”
* * *
Bright headlights lit up the inside of Danielle’s Ford and Gracie turned to Danielle. The grille of the black truck filled the back window and she heard the hissing of air brakes. The harsh white light made her sister’s face look cartoonish. But there was no doubt Danielle was terrified.
“Lock the doors!” Gracie yelled.
And the lights behind them went out, leaving utter darkness. Gracie heard the
thunk
of the electric locks and thanked God the battery had enough power to perform the function.
The truck was so close behind them the Ford vibrated from the heavy engine.
Gracie craned in her seat, looking back. Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the darkness due to the blinding light a moment before. Green diamonds and orbs strobed in her eyes from the aftereffect. But she thought she heard a door slam.
“Maybe he’ll help us,” Danielle said, barely above a whisper. “I wish I wouldn’t have…”
There was a beat of silence and the passenger window exploded inward. Danielle screamed. Gracie tried to scream but nothing came out but a wheezy croak. She turned to see Danielle put her arms up to block the huge hands of the driver who was reaching inside.
What happened next came in rapid flashes.
The driver appeared to be reaching for Danielle’s throat as if to strangle her but there was something dark and squared-off in one of his hands. Gracie heard the angry crackle of electricity and Danielle’s sudden “
Ungh!
” followed by the sight of her sister stiffening like a corpse, raising herself out of her seat, her eyes rolling white back into her head, her mouth slack …
Gracie turned away. Tried to locate the toggle to unlock her driver’s side door so she could get out and run. Tried to remember whether the toggle was on top of the armrest or in its side or on the dashboard …
The hot smell of urine filled the car.
And in her peripheral vision, a big white form moved hurriedly from right to left in front of the car. It was the truck driver, wearing all white, something plastic, a glimpse of his big blocklike head …
She found the button and jammed it forward and all four door locks popped open.
Gracie pulled back on the door latch and it started to swing open when the driver wedged himself into the opening and reached toward her. She heard a thump on the top of the door frame as he hit his head trying to bend inside, the blow significant enough to rock the car.
It staggered him a moment and he paused, and she threw herself away, started crawling over the top of Danielle’s convulsing body toward the passenger door. But the driver recovered and she felt his fingers grasp the top of her waistband and jerk her back into the driver’s seat.
“Hold still, you little bitch,” he croaked and she saw him for the first time—huge, rough, flushed, fleshy—lips curled back to reveal crooked yellow doglike teeth, fresh blood from his forehead or scalp coursing down—and got a glimpse of the electrical device he had poised over her face and plunged into her neck.
The sensation was sudden and massive and debilitating. She no longer had control of her body, which stiffened, and she had an image of lightninglike electricity firing out from the tips of her fingers and toes. Every muscle and sinew seemed fused together with steel and she felt welded into a single mass of flesh.
* * *
But she was still conscious. She had no concept of time or motion, but she could hear the sound of his boots scraping gravel outside the car.
And she could feel the sharp prick of a needle through the fabric of her jeans into her inner thigh.
15.
8:40
P.M.
, Tuesday, November 20
T
HE
L
IZARD
K
ING
REACHED UP
and grasped the stitched nylon strap through the loop and leaned back on his boot heels and pulled it down hard. The trailer door slid down on its dual tracks with the sound of rolling thunder, but in the instant before it sealed he got a last look at the three still bundles of limbs and clothing inside, looking like oversized dolls tossed aside. There was a glimpse of thick dark hair from the older one and the soles of splayed running shoes from the other. They weren’t secured to the bare metal floor or the walls of the container and they’d no doubt flop around when he made turns or sudden stops. Unlike the third bundle that wasn’t going anywhere.
But they were both breathing when he lifted them inside, and they’d likely be alive—if bruised—when he got them to his destination. When the bottom of the door fitted into the channel he reached across his body and yanked the handle of the locking mechanism over so the upturned steel arm slipped snugly under the outside bolt of the bed. He threaded the hasp of a combination lock through the eyebolts of the mechanism and snapped it shut. The trailer was now locked securely from the outside. There was no way to open it from the inside. The trailer had vents in it so they wouldn’t suffocate, and he adjusted the reefer unit to sixty-eight degrees so they wouldn’t freeze to death.
His heart was beating madly and pulses of blood whumped in his ears but he was methodical in his movements and actions. All his work had taken place in the open on the side of the highway. His headlights were still off so they wouldn’t light up the little Ford he’d parked behind, but anybody driving by might recall seeing the huge Peterbilt pulled up tight to the car on the shoulder. It would look, he hoped, like he’d stopped to help out the occupants of the car. Since the smashed driver’s window could be seen from the road, he carefully pushed all of the remaining broken glass inside so it wouldn’t draw attention. He realized while he was working how visible his white Tyvek overalls were. The material seemed to absorb what little light there was and it could draw attention he didn’t welcome.