Viv:
The highway stretched for hours. I’d stopped counting the signs. Stopped tracking how far we’d come or how far we had left. The numbers on the road markers blurred somewhere between the heat rising off the asphalt and the adrenaline still in my veins.
I just watched.
Watched the lines roll by. Watched the towns grow smaller, more spread out. Watched the last bits of the world we knew peel away in the rearview.
Every gas station looked like a ghost. Every billboard half-sun-faded, selling s**t nobody wanted. A place called Wilcox, then a half-dead sign that said Welcome to Paradise Valley, and I actually laughed, a low bitter sound that made Knox glance over at me.
His hand rested on the gearshift, fingers tapping slow. Calm. Like he hadn’t helped me dump two bodies in a motel les
