Song for the Dead: An Ada Palomino Novel, стр. 27
“A side effect from Hell.”
“So it would seem.”
He pulls the car back onto the 101 and we head over a bridge, leaving Florence behind. “So where are we staying tonight?”
“I figured we’d just drive until I get tired.”
“You haven’t booked a hotel?”
He glances at me. “It’s the off-season. We’ll just show up somewhere.”
“Yeah, but there are only so many good hotels.” I’ve done roach motels before, no thank you.
“We’ll find a nice one, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
“Yeah, but the less you reserve ahead of time, the more we’ll end up in an only one bed scenario.”
He rolls his eyes. “Then I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“You better.”
The funny thing is that I’ve stayed in a hotel with Max before. Right before he died, when he was in Manhattan helping me and Perry look for Dex, he stayed in my room as soon as Dex came back. Of course, it wasn’t weird back then, we had two beds, and it would have been the same as if I’d been sharing a room with Dex. You know, they’re both kind of like big brothers, and now Dex literally is.
It’s dark when we see signs for Port Orford and Gold Beach. Feels like we’ve been driving in a dark winding forest for hours.
“Well, Blondie?” Max asks. “Where do you want to stop?”
“Gold Beach,” I tell him, looking at the map. “It’s on the Rogue River. It’ll have more options.” I quickly swipe through Yelp, looking for places to eat. There’s a lot of seafood and chowder places that don’t seem so fun anymore, but there’s a steakhouse that has okay reviews. “And let’s go out for dinner. I could drink a whole bottle of wine.”
“Sounds good. I could too…” He trails off, and I look to see his eyes locked in the rearview mirror, flames dancing in them again.
“Seriously?” I ask, craning in my seat to look behind us. There’s no car, nothing behind us.
Oh shit, what if she’s hiding in the backseat and she’s just going to pop up like a jump scare?
“There’s a car back there,” he says, which makes me calm down for a split second. “The headlights are off.”
I stare back into the darkness. “Do you think it’s the old lady?” Obviously it’s a demon because of his eyes and the fact that no sane person would drive around in the dark on this road with no headlights.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then brings his eyes to the road. “Hang on.”
Then he slams his foot on the gas and the car bursts forward, throwing me back in my seat.
Oh fuck.
Max keeps his foot down, the car going faster and faster, the road zipping us tightly around corners. I watch with wide eyes as the speedometer keeps getting closer to eighty, which on any road, let alone this two-lane highway, is asking for trouble.
“Max!” I cry out as we go up on two-wheels, peeling around the corner, his hand moving fast on the gearshift.
He eyes me. “I need to shake her.”
“And I need to stay alive.”
“So do I. If you die, I die.”
“How romantic,” I mutter, my eyes trained on the road as it disappears under us.
“We can lose her in Port Orford,” he says as we pass another sign, going too fast to read it.
I press my hands on the dash to keep me in place, praying that we don’t crash. Up ahead the road is lit up, maybe from the town.
But Max doesn’t slow down. Not even a little.
“Max,” I hiss at him as the tiny town gets closer and closer, and we start passing cars. “We’re going to get pulled over.”
“I’ll talk my way out of it,” he says determinedly, a firm set to his jaw as he shifts gears again. “There.”
We blow past streetlights and I turn in my seat to see the car appear, illuminated behind us, just a few feet away, almost at our bumper. It’s the little old lady, smiling a shark’s smile, disappearing for a moment as the lights pass and reappear.
“Oh my god!” I exclaim. “She’s right there! Go faster!”
“What do you think I’m doing?” he shoots back at me. “Fuck. Hold on!”
I whip around to see us enter the town of quaint little buildings gathered along a few main streets, an SUV pulling out in front of us.
Max whips the wheel around, the Super B careening around the SUV, cutting through the middle of the road, nearly colliding with an oncoming car in the other lane.
I close my eyes, a scream ripping out of me, so certain we’re going to die.
But as the horns of the cars and tires screeching fade away behind us, I open my eyes to see us back on the road, Max shifting like he’s a fucking NASCAR driver, eyes going between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.
“That bitch,” he growls, and I look to the side mirror to see her copying the same moves that Max made, speeding up behind us. She’s impossible to shake.
We continue to burn it through town, Max whipping the car around another car, narrowly avoiding taking out a family in the crosswalk, his reflexes working at lightning speed. Still, it’s not enough to shake her and from the way she’s coming after us, I know she would have plowed through that family without remorse.
Now we’re shooting up the hill out of town, disappearing back into the black of the road.
“This is never going to end,” I whimper, my heart wanting to climb out of my chest, my fingers permanently pressed into the dash.
“Don’t sound so pessimistic,” he grunts, shifting again and picking up speed as the road starts to wind along the coast. “Hold on, darlin’.”
“I’m already holding on!” I screech, as he suddenly wheels the car to the left, cutting across the lane and nearly hitting an oncoming car as we burn it