Chapter 16Blake Rockwell was in way over his head. The kid on the seat beside him—your kid, don't forget—wouldn't shut up. The boy had cried all day yesterday, cried himself to sleep, and picked it up again this morning. Only now, his blubbering had changed to a dry, monotonous wail, high pitched and even more annoying than the actual crying had been.
The narrow confines of his rig condensed and amplified the sound.
“Dylan,” he said, trying to capture the child's interest, “do you want me to toot the big horn?”
The child paid him no mind whatsoever. Blake scanned the road and, seeing only a desolate stretch of interstate with no cars in view, he pulled the chain, activating a loud, low-pitched honk.
The child stopped screaming mid-wail and turned to look at him, eyes wide.
“Did you li
