Curtis didn’t thank him.
They could both see now something coming up in the distance, a gate of sorts like Curtis had said, with a guard building, and Lyndon first felt a rush of relief they’d made it before fearful panic welled up. There were two guards he could see as they neared—one in the building still, the other in front of the gate, gun drawn and pointing at them.
“The cops must’ve told them to be ready,” said Curtis.
Lyndon slowed, not wanting to come up too fast on the person pointing a weapon at them. Everything seemed to move outside of the confines of time—he was coming to a stop, putting the van in park. Curtis wasn’t next to him any longer but outside, crossing in front of the headlights in the dark, hands up. Lyndon stared at the coffee blotches on his shirt, the sweat st
