They were back on the road before the sun had fully risen out of the trees. Court clutched Ronnie’s waist tightly, head tucked between Ronnie’s shoulder blades, eyes shut against the wind. On the bike alongside theirs, Adam wasn’t as lucky—he couldn’t duck down behind Bree, and spent most of the time with his head turned to one side, gulping for air. His hair was disheveled, his glasses grimy with dirt and sweat. The one time Adam glanced over at him, Court hollered, “Beats walking though, right?”
Adam shrugged and shook his head, as if he couldn’t hear anything over the whine of the motors and the wind rushing past.
Shortly after noon, Court peeked over Ronnie’s shoulder and saw a huge, weather-beaten sombrero rising above the road. It swelled in size as they neared, until Court could s
