Something Wilder(8)

Behind them, Terry’s perpetually flushed face split into an unsettling grin before he reached forward and sharply slapped Walter on the back of the head, jolting him awake.

“Come on, man,” Leo said. When Leo first met Terry, he thought he was perpetually sunburned, then Leo wondered whether he drank too much. Now, of course, Leo knew Terry was just chronically pissed off. Worked up all the time, angry at women, socialists, his mom.

Leo shifted and threw Walt a commiserating Wow, do I hate Terry look before turning his attention down to his phone, mumbling, “One bar already? Did we drive to 1992?”

“Should’ve brought a satellite phone,” Terry said, stretching in the aisle. “Cell service is gonna be sketchy at best.”

“Come now, gentlemen.” Bradley stood, too, pounding his chest. His thick blond hair fell away from his forehead in easy, travel-immune waves. “Where we’re going, we won’t need phones.”

Bradley led the group off the bus to collect their various bags. About twenty feet from where they stood, Leo could make out a small, rickety wind shelter cupped around a handful of weathered wooden benches. A tumbleweed somersaulted by on the dry cement, a small cyclone of dust following in its wake. As Leo’s eyes adjusted, the sky slowly turned purple; the ground was swallowed up by shadows that seemed to stretch uninterrupted for miles.

The bus rumbled to life again, and the group of men watched it trail away, the taillights fading into darkness.

Walter’s brows furrowed in worry. “Does he know we’re—I wonder if he—” He looked over to Leo, stating the obvious: “We’re not on the bus with him.”

“Maybe now is when you tell us what we’re in for, Bradley,” Leo said.

“All you need to know is we’re in for adventure. Don’t worry, guys, we’re not going to be out here alone for long.”

As soon as he finished the sentence, a coyote howled and its pack followed with eerie, rallying yipping.

Leo stretched and his back cracking sounded like a stack of dominoes falling. “I fell asleep but am willing to bet we haven’t passed anything for hours. Can you at least tell us where we are?”

Terry freed a GPS unit from one of several cargo pockets. “We’re at thirty-eight degrees north and—”

“Thank you,” Leo said dryly.

“God, fine, nobody enjoys mystery, I see.” Bradley pulled out his phone, and the screen illuminated his frown, making his pampered skin look oddly lined and spooky. “We should be just outside of Hanksville, Utah, but I’ll read you the brochure information if I can pull it up.” He turned the screen to face them, pointing to the way his mail icon spun uselessly. “It’s an adventure guide company,” he explained defensively. “We’ll be riding horses and camping and hunting for treasure. Tell me that doesn’t sound like a fucking blast.”

A vague memory clouded Leo’s thoughts, and his stomach tilted queasily.

In the distance, a pair of yellowed headlights sliced through the dark.

“See?” Bradley said, vindicated. “There’s our ride now.”

They watched in anticipatory silence as a Bronco that was more rust than metal barreled down the pocked two-lane road. It showed no signs of slowing as it approached.

Apprehension made Leo’s voice louder than normal: “They’re coming pretty fast…”

Alarm swelled in his chest as the driver jerked onto the shoulder, bumping over gravel and careening directly toward them. The men pressed back against the benches, letting out a chorus of Are we about to die? exclamations before the vehicle came to a dusty, screeching halt only inches from Walter’s feet.

“I have never been that close to pissing myself,” he whispered.

As they all took a few careful steps away from the Bronco’s grille, Bradley happily waved to the outline of the driver. “Told you someone would be here soon.”

The engine cut off abruptly and the lingering notes of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” echoed in the answering silence.

Leo squinted as the driver slowly climbed out and rounded the front of the vehicle, their footsteps crunching through the gravelly dirt. The driver was still backlit by the headlights, but Leo could make out long legs as the figure leaned back against the hood.

Their face was hidden by a dusty cowboy hat, but when they tipped their head up, Leo was surprised to see a woman—midtwenties and pretty—almost six feet tall and wearing a smile that suggested she’d be up for a party or a bar fight, no big difference to her. She was in boots and jeans, and her chin-length blond hair curled over the collar of her worn button-down shirt. “I’m Nicole. You must be the suits I get to whip into shape this week.”

At Leo’s side, Bradley reached out, clutching the collar of Leo’s shirt in a fist and releasing a happy moan. Leo shoved him away.

Everyone else remained noticeably silent, so he stepped forward and offered a hand. “I’m Leo.”

“You the one who signed your friends up for this?” she asked in a flattened twang, taking his hand in her strong grip.

“No, that’d be Bradley.” When she released it, Leo put the hand on Bradley’s shoulder before pointing around the group. “And this is Walter.” He hesitated before gesturing to Terry, who remained a step outside their small circle. “Terry’s over there.”