Tucking Jed under one arm, he followed her to the end of the aisle, turning left past the sign that announced the location of the two rest rooms. Another door led through a back storeroom piled high with food and janitorial supplies, past a work sink, and out through the promised rear portal.

There were three vehicles in the small back lot—the cook’s, the waitress’s, and his blond savior’s dark blue van. A three-quarter-ton, it boasted a raised roof with black plastic windows embedded in the rear. Otherwise the side panels were intact, offering plenty of privacy to anyone within.

Loping around to the passenger side, he climbed in through the unlocked door and gently set Jed down alongside the captain’s chair. As Caroline climbed in behind the wheel he registered a made-up foldout bed, several storage cabinets, a small sink, a built-in microwave oven suspended from a cabinet above the sink, and assorted other unspectacular and thoroughly prosaic built-ins.

Backing up and keeping her headlights off, she pulled out of the lot and onto the secondary road which paralleled the highway. After less than a mile the highway curved westward, but the road they had taken continued north. Leaving the last commercial buildings behind, they found themselves in an outlying neighborhood of isolated homes and tall trees.

“They’re not stupid, you know.” Ross Ed couldn’t keep himself from continuously checking the rearview mirror on the passenger side for signs of pursuit. “They’ll figure our that I left with you.”

“Maybe not.” She spoke without taking her hands off the wheel or her eyes off the road. “Nobody saw us leave together. I’ve eaten in there a lot without striking up long-term friendships. Usually I’m not there this late. I didn’t know that waitress, and she doesn’t know me.”

“What were you doing in there?”

“Bad case of the midnight munchies.”

He checked the rearview again. “Can we go any faster?”

“Take it easy. You want to attract attention, speeding along in the middle of the night? You’ll notice there’s not a whole lot of traffic to blend in with.” She slapped the wheel, fairly bouncing in her seat. “Damn! This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks!”

He made himself settle into the comfortable, high-backed chair. “You live in Safford?”

“Have been for a while. Working as a checker at the Safeway.”

“Won’t someone start asking questions when you don’t show up for work?”

“They’ll wait awhile. Assume that I’m goofing off, or out with a boyfriend, or something. It’ll be a few days before they check on me. By that time we’re long gone.”

The van struck a dip and Ross Ed’s head threatened to dent the ceiling, an all-too-frequent hazard he faced in the majority of vehicles. “You can just walk away from your apartment and job like that?”

“What apartment? You’re in it. As for my job, it’s not like I was running the production line at Boeing. They’ll just replace me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I don’t do this sort of thing on a regular basis. Usually I give notice. I just got the feeling you were in kind of a hurry, that’s all.” She grinned over at him. “Carpe diem, and all that.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Never mind.”

By this time Ross Ed had decided that this was a woman it would be nice to Get To Know. What he had at first taken for flirtatious playfulness masked a streak of genuine independence. He had the feeling she didn’t much give a damn if she was picked up by the army or not. In that event, he felt it would not be out of place to feel sorry for the army. Anyway, who was he to be questioning her? She’d just saved him … or at least prolonged his freedom.

“By the way, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She chuckled. “They don’t know what kind of car I’m driving, which way we’ve gone, or when you left.” She checked the rearview on her side. “Still nobody back there. I wonder how much longer they’ll sit around waiting on you?”

“Hard to say. If they think I just ordered, they might hold off an hour or more.”

“That’s the spirit. Meanwhile we’ll put lots of Arizona between us.”

“Where we headed?”

She eyed him expectantly. “Where’d you want to go? Do they know where you were heading?”

“No. I haven’t told anyone except a few friends back home, and they just know I want to see the Pacific.”

“So they’ll have to search from Canada to Mexico. That ought to give ’em pause.” She considered. “We could cut up and over on Highway 70 through Globe into Phoenix, or east and down to Lordsburg.”

“No,” he countered sharply, “not Lordsburg. I’ve been to Lordsburg.”

“Me, too. Can’t say as I blame you. Okay, how about we get back on one-ninety-one and head for Clifton? Although if they managed to track you to Safford, they might block the road up that way, too.” She wrenched hard on the wheel and Ross fought to keep his balance in the chair as they began bouncing up a narrow dirt road.

“Since I’ve been working in Safford I’ve done a lot of camping around here. There are dozens of roads that cut through the San Carlos reservation. It’ll be a little rocky, but we can take our time and work our way northward without having to worry about roadblocks. We’ll pick up pavement again outside Fort Apache.”

“There’s really a town here called Fort Apache? I thought that was just a movie title.”

“Nope, it’s a real place. From there we’ll head on into Show Low. If they’re not waiting for us there, you can bet your ass against a pig’s hindquarters that we’ll have lost them. From there we’ll hit Holbrook and get on Interstate 40. Then we’ll head west again. You want to see the Pacific, we’ll damn well go see the Pacific. I don’t see them trying to monitor both interstates. Cause too much comment.”

“I dunno. They really want me. And Jed, too, of course.”

“Too bad for them. By the time they figure out you’re not in the immediate vicinity, we’ll be a couple of hundred miles to the north. When they decide to start checking the other interstates, we’ll be in California. And they still have to identify the transportation you’re using.”

“I’m sold,” he told her gratefully. “I’m going to have lo leave it up to you. Until this trip I’d never been further west than Hobbes, and I don’t know this part of the country.”

“I do. The mountains are magnificent.” She checked her console. “Only problem is, do we have enough gas to make Fort Apache? There won’t be anything open there, but there will be in Show Low, and it’s not much farther. We’ll do the best we can.” The bottom dropped out of the van for a moment, sending him careening off the sidewall. “Sorry. Plenty of ravines and potholes out here. If we run empty, maybe we can buy some gas from somebody who’s out camping.

“Now that that’s settled, tell me about yourself. Who are you, and what’s with the dead alien?”

His deceased companion was bouncing around on the carpet like an abandoned rag doll, but otherwise appeared none the worse for their close call. “Jed seems to like you.”

“Yeah? How can you tell?”

“You know how it is. After you’ve spent some time with someone you get to know their moods.”

“He’s alien, he’s dead, and he has moods?”

“Sure. I can just tell. He likes you.”

“I’m so flattered. Tell Jed I like him, too, as long as he doesn’t start to decompose in my van.”

Having long since left the last ranch house far behind, they bumped and banged northward, continuing their steady climb into the mountains.

TEN

Suttles was the first one into the café, followed closely by Kerry, Robinett, and a pair of massively muscled military police. No one entered armed. The last thing they wanted was any kind of wild shoot-out. Not out of concern for the safety of those inside but lest the priceless alien be damaged.

Hurriedly the captain surveyed their surroundings: counter, stools, booths, kitchen in back smelling of old grease and singed shortening, a single young couple at the far end now turning to gaze curiously at the handful of intruders.

The waitress emerged from the kitchen to greet them. She reminded Suttles of his paternal grandmother. “Can I help you? You want something to eat? We don’t have a booth big enough for five, but I can put a chair on the end of a table.”

“We’re not hungry.” Anxiously, his eyes scanned the interior. “We’re looking for someone.”

“A friend,” put in Kerry unnecessarily … and unconvincingly.