Dead highways.
Not so much as a cargo truck. Peace. Eerie, somber peace.
Somehow soothing...
As the sun set and the night began, Osmond finally began to relax, and let his mind temporarily at ease.
They were on their way to a safe house. They had a knowledgeable woman with them, and the baby had stopped crying once Ariel began to breastfeed.
But this peaceful reverie soon turned to daunting questions in the back of his mind.
Miriam was on a mission from God. That in and of itself was unsettling, but if that was so, and she worried that scientists were going to abduct and autopsy their child, why was she so willing to help them find the safe house? Were the old couple not trying to abduct Atlas and take him to the same safe house they were destined for? And what were they going to say when the old couple didn't show up, but instead the parents and an unlikely nurse came in their place?
And why did she not flinch for a moment when he told her they were being followed in the hospital?
He was about to unload some of these questions on her, but thought twice after looking through his rear view mirror at his wife.
Ariel was staring daggers into the back of Miriam's head. She had seemed untrusting of her since they parted ways with Dr. Grant. Something had passed between Dr. Grant and his wife, and an alarm went off in his head. Nothing about this woman added up.
Her willingness to help them suddenly began to seem less than charitable.
He decided not to take his eyes off her for a moment. But he had to sleep at some point, and Ariel wasn't going to drive.
After hours of driving he found himself dozing at the wheel.
When he looked up after shutting his eyes for a moment he found Miriam staring not just at him, but into him. The way one looks at a petulant child.
"Maybe I should drive for a while. After all, I have a better idea of where we're going." she invited.
It would be so easy...
So necessary.
"No, that's alright. You should rest. I'm still restless from everything. I'm still buzzing from adrenaline."
His lies were transparent. He knew it too. He could barely speak, he was so exhausted.
"I'm quite capable. You've been through enough today. You needn't worry, you're safe with me. You're in God's hands."
A few hours ago and he wouldn't have hesitated. Now just listening to her calming command was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not to mention the unsettling use of the name God.
But he didn't really have a choice. Just by looking at her he could tell that she wasn't about to let it go.
He looked in his rear view at Ariel, who gave him a relinquishing nod. She understood the predicament, probably better than he did. So after a while he agreed.
"At the next gas station, we'll fill up and switch. Agreed?"
"Amen." was her consent.
All was as it should be at the gas station. The only unsettling business was the clerk talking to a man of about Osmond's age about the shoot out at the hospital that morning. Osmond managed to act in accordance with how he should, agreeing how much of an atrocity it was that any one could be allowed into a hospital with a gun. He chatted briefly with the two, and said he was on his way to view real estate near the Okanagan.
When the clerk and the other man looked at where he was pointing to on a map they both grew suspicious, but just commented on how poor the dwellings were in that part of the province.
"Nothing grows there, man." commented the gentleman.
"Unless your raising a swamp monster, or the Ogopogo himself!" he continued, in a mixture of warning and jest.
"Oh, well, a friend of mine told me it's affordable and perfect for development" Osmond quickly retorted.
The two at the station took this as a fool's defense, so the clerk gently chided him, "It sounds like your 'friend' is trying to take you, guy. Don't buy nothing up there. That's bat country."
"Bat country?"
"It's just bad is all. Bad place to raise a family. But if you're looking to develop, you probably ain't to keen on that anyhow, eh?"
"Right.. Well, thanks anyhow." and he walked back to the van, replaced the gas nozzle, got in the back seat with his wife, and handed Miriam the keys.
"God help us." his wife whispered in his ear. "And I don't mean her god."
He squeezed her hand tight for a moment, before passing into blessed sleep.
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