Cruel World(119)

Eventually the road lost its straight line and began to snake through several rough hills that spilled down to the highway. Alice slowed and eased the Challenger around the curves as if she had grown up driving the car. She rolled her window down, and her seat was far enough forward for Denver to poke his head into the open air. His tongue lolled, eyes taking in the speeding scenery.

They drove into the golden afternoon without hindrance, filling the car up with gas at a large, silent farm that appeared to the north. The hills gave way to fields again that wouldn’t be planted, last year’s crops withering away in stolid silos. Quinn watched the land coast past. So much to see and take in. He drank the scenery with his eyes, opened his hand to catch the passing air in his palm like a harried creature that couldn’t stay, each mile the furthest he’d ever been from home.

It was closing in on dusk when they passed the sign welcoming them to Illinois. They hadn’t seen a single stilt the entire day, not even a glimpse of a thin moving line on the horizon or striding across any of the miles of open fields. As they crested a rise, a shallow valley opened below them, cupping a small town in its bowl. Several buildings and houses were lit, glowing warm in the failing day. On the far side of the valley, a line of wind turbines cranked steadily, their white blades chasing one another like an endless game of tag. Above them a large house was a stark cutout against the sky, lights blazing, its bulk resting on a rise overlooking the burg below.

“Turn here,” Quinn said, pointing to the right at a gated driveway. Alice idled up to the wrought iron and stopped. Quinn climbed out and walked to the gate. It swung open with a push. They trundled up the curved drive, the house staying hidden until they reached the peak. It was a sprawling single story, its roof lined by filigreed railings. Long black tire marks lay in several rows before the attached garage doors. The inside of the garage was empty save for untouched camping equipment stacked against one wall and over a dozen folding lawn chairs. Quinn searched the house and found only scattered papers in an office along with a mixture of twenty and fifty-dollar bills. Everything else was in its place.

He raised the garage door with the touch of a button, and Alice backed the car inside. Denver brought Ty into the spacious living room lined with three enormous picture windows looking down upon the town. Alice began to check for weapons while Quinn searched the kitchen. He opened a pantry door, and a smell wafted out that instantly transported him home. He closed his eyes and inhaled, smiling.

When Alice returned to the kitchen, the coffee was already brewing. It drizzled into the pot in strong, brown streams, steam rising in delicious, scented tendrils.

“Oh, my, God. You found coffee,” she said, coming to his side.

“You mentioned you could use some. Sit down and I’ll pour you a cup.”

She sat at the breakfast bar that halved the kitchen, watching him fill a mug full of the brew. He set it down before her, and she brought her nose so close to the liquid he was sure she would scald its tip.

“That’s better than cocaine,” she said, bringing the cup to her lips.

“You’ve tried cocaine?”

She sipped and swallowed, smiling as she closed her eyes.

“No, but I’d bet anything I’m right.”

Quinn found the access to the roof in a hallway off of the living room. A wide stairway led up and out a pair of storm doors to a patio and outdoor kitchen, complete with brick oven and bar. The sun was setting, and it bathed the valley in tepid red light that receded across the land like bloodletting in reverse. He gazed at the beauty of it for a time before checking for other routes onto the roof. There was an extendible access ladder attached to one sidewall. In less than a second, they could have a way off the roof and back to the garage. They would sleep on the roof tonight.

He carried up a stack of blankets from the ground floor, lining the reclining lawn chairs with them before leading Alice and Ty up. Denver patrolled the entire roof and then settled on the patio stone beside Ty’s chair before drifting off to sleep. As darkness crept closer, Quinn started the gas grill in the outdoor kitchen, ignoring Alice’s questioning look before going to the main floor and returning with three frozen packages.

“You’re kidding,” Alice said as he dropped the porterhouse steaks onto the table and began unwrapping them.

“Guess that penny really was lucky.”

“You keep giving me things like coffee and steak and you’re going to get lucky.”

Quinn dropped the fork he was using to pry the steaks from their containers and banged his head on the grill as he bent to pick it up. Alice giggled and walked away to circle the perimeter. He couldn’t help but watch her, the graceful way she moved.