“In this tank?” said Frank worriedly. “This ain’t no Corvette, you know.”
“Don’t worry.” Burnfingers winked at him. “I once had to lose two busloads of tourists in Monument Valley.” He continued to accelerate, recklessly disregarding the presence of the other cars on the road ahead. Frank moaned and closed his eyes, but they didn’t hit anybody. Burnfingers handled the motor home like a Jeep, until they’d left the last of the city traffic far behind.
“They’re still back there!” Alicia declared in a high voice. Her announcement was followed by a faint whooshing noise as something like a runaway skyrocket shot past overhead. It vanished into the night.
“Shooting at us,” Burnfingers announced imperturbably. “I thought they would hold off a while longer.” He swung the motor home hard left.
Frank stared forward. “Why’d you turn off?” The road ahead was two lanes, narrow but paved, like a snake’s tongue leading out into the desert. The main highway quickly fell behind. Dark mountains loomed against the night. “If they catch us out here they won’t have to worry about witnesses.”
“They won’t catch us.” Burnfingers spoke with assurance, staring straight ahead and holding on to the wheel with both hands. Occasionally he stole a glance at the rearview.
Another light flashed by, off to the right this time, fading into the darkness like fluorescent cola.
“If they’ve got a full tank they can just run us down.” Frank was peering at the mirror on the passenger’s side, barely able to make out the lights of the van pursuing them. “We’ll run out of gas out in the middle of nowhere!”
“I thought this road angled right about here.” Burnfingers was talking to himself, not Frank. “Ah.” His face broke into a wide smile.
Frank’s pupils became as big as grapes.
Everything they’d encountered so far—the incredible creatures, the impossible places—paled to insignificance alongside what happened next. Burnfingers shoved the accelerator to the floor and the motor home leaped forward. Steven stopped whining and raced to the nearest window, staring out.
“Oh, wow!”
“Steven! Steven, you come away from there!” Alicia hurried forward to put her arms around the boy. When she saw what he was looking at, her hands dropped slowly to her sides. Wendy had moved over to stand close to her mother, while Mouse stood behind them, saying nothing.
The road had become a pale, thin ribbon stretching across void. A soft pink light emanated from the pavement, a strip of cellophane trimmed with glowing fiber optics. Theirs was the only vehicle traveling the fairy road. Mountains, cacti, the barbed-wire fences that had lined both sides of the pavement: all had disappeared.
All that remained was the pure perfect night, and the myriad of stars overhead. Also to left and right. Also below.
They could clearly see radiant nebulae and supergiants, bright clusters and comets, through the semitransparent surface of the road.
10
A DIVIDING LINE still ran down the center of the highway. Further proof that two lanes remained was provided moments later when something like a runaway meteor came exploding toward them, only to scream past in the oncoming lane and vanish aft. Steven turned to follow its passage.
“Geez, what was that?”
Burnfingers was whistling softly to himself as he drove. A paralyzed Frank finally moved, straightening in his seat, accepting what he saw outside while fighting to avoid staring at it. There was no shoulder, no solid border to the narrow roadway. If Burnfingers lost control, there was nothing to prevent them from driving right off the pavement, to fall endlessly, forever, through the abyss that enclosed them on all sides.
The sign that came up fast on their right almost sent him over the edge inside his head.
SALT LAKE CITY—212 Miles
The sheer sameness of the speckled wonderment outside finally brought Alicia forward, just in time to catch a glimpse of the sign before they rolled past.
“Surely that can’t be right.”
“Why not?” said Burnfingers cheerfully. “Miles or light-years, what’s the difference? It’s all a matter of perspective.”
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” said Frank in a low voice.
“You can take as much of it as you have to, my friend, because you have no other choice.”
“Couldn’t we, maybe, pull over and rest for a while?” Alicia asked hopefully.
“Pull over?” Frank gestured outside. “Pull over where? I mean, I like the wide open spaces, but I like solid ground under them.”
“Nothing’s solid anymore,” Alicia observed thoughtfully. “You can’t count on anything being real anymore.” She turned to the diminutive figure on her left. “Isn’t that right?”
Mouse nodded. “Reality flexes.”
Frank half turned in his seat. “That’s nuts.”
“In and out, in and out.” Mouse moved her hands to illustrate. “Like a bellows. Here reality has been stretched thin enough to see through.”
“Wonderful.” He slumped back down in his seat.
After a while Burnfingers finally gave in to Frank’s repeated requests to let him drive. At first he was nervous, but a few minutes behind the wheel found him cruising easily. All you had to do was stay on the road, he told himself. Despite their success in escaping from Pass Regulus, he still had more confidence in his own driving than Begay’s.
The last thing he expected to see was an off ramp.
It was coming up fast on the right, and he slowed quickly. The sign nearby said CEDAR CITY. Alicia was sitting across from him now and he looked anxiously at her.
“Seems okay.” She glanced back. “Burnfingers?”
Begay came forward, studied both the sign and ramp. “Might as well. If it’s half right, we’re a long ways from Vegas and longer still from Regulus.”
Licking his lips, Frank flipped his turn signal and slowly started down pavement no thicker than plastic wrap.
There was a stop sign at the bottom of the off ramp. A normal-looking, battered red and yellow sign. As he hit the brakes the light changed, late afternoon replacing the awesome universal night around them. It was reality, snapping back like a rubber band.
“We’ve fallen through a crack,” said Burnfingers.
“We’re back.” Alicia let out a long sigh. “Thank God, we’re back!”
“Maybe,” said Burnfingers, but to himself.
The sign by the dirty asphalt read WELCOME TO CEDAR CITY, UTAH. Ahead they could see structures of wood and stucco, clinging to the lower slopes of snow-capped peaks. On a telephone pole nearby, a hawk sat examining the motor home. As they approached, it took wing in search of vermin. The air was warm but not desert hot, refreshingly devoid of pollutants or other surprises. Frank lowered his window, sucked in mountain air.
“Smells right. Looks right. Could we be back where we belong, back on the right reality line?”
“Reality is rife with off ramps,” Mouse replied gently, “but I admit it does appear promising. There is no need to try to find the interstate again. We can continue along this state highway.”
“You mean you can continue along. I’ve had it. I know I promised, but I can’t take this anymore, lady. Not even if we’re, like you said, linked together. No more.”
Mouse regarded him for a long moment. “I understand, Mr. Sonderberg. It has been harder than I thought. There will be dangers to you, but perhaps when I depart your company they will not manifest themselves. I will make my way alone the rest of the way to the Vanishing Point.”
Frank seemed confused by her ready acquiescence. “Well, okay. That’s more like it.” Alicia said nothing.
