the car.
"A mouse can't look mad-" Celia began to explain.
Tom tugged on her shirtsleeve, and said, "Celia."
"A mouse is an animal," Celia said. "They don't-"
"Celia!" Tom raised his voice louder, finally gaining her full attention.
"What is it?" she asked, displeased to have her explanation interrupted.
Tom pointed in the same direction as Ayden. Behind the car were three squirrels. The tiny creatures were traveling at a break-neck speed, doing everything within their power to keep up.
"What the?"
Though Link was unable to see the squirrels from his vantage point, he could clearly see the panicked look on the face of his little brother. "Dad, I think you need to drive faster."
"Why would I go faster? The speed limit is only twenty-five." Mr. Hartkins looked in his rearview mirror and saw the squirrels in hot pursuit. "Surely those little fellas can't keep this pace up for long. They'll die of exhaustion long before they ever catch up to us."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Link said.
"What?"
"They're probably already dead," said Link.
"Oh."
"Mr. Hartkins, not to be rude," Celia said. "but I think you need to speed up a little. They look like they're gaining."
"That's impossible! They're squirrels."
"Moush!"
"Not now, Ayden. Don't worry, kids," Mr. Hartkins said. "They're just squirrels." Through the rearview mirror, Link's dad gave Ayden a look of warning and then continued. "Squirrels are loveable little creatures that gather nuts. Even if they are back from the dead, what could three of them possibly do to all of us? Besides, we'll be on the interstate soon. There's no way they can keep up there."
"Link, why don't you use the camera? Now's as good a time as any to see if it works," Tom said.
"I can't. You heard Mrs. Greta. She said I shouldn't use it unless there was absolutely no other option."
"Do you have another option in mind?" Tom asked hopefully.
"Not yet," Link admitted, "but Dad's right. They're just squirrels. How dangerous can they be?"
"They're not just squirrels. They're Broken squirrels," Celia corrected. "How else could they be running so fast? Look! They're definitely gaining on us."
Mr. Hartkins glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Well then, why don't we stop and ask them?"
"What?" Link, Celia, and Tom asked in unison.
Mr. Hartkins tipped the brim of his hat. "Don't worry kids. I know what I'm doing...I think. Somebody tell me when the squirrels are a few feet away from the car."
"But...Don't slow down. What are you doing?" Celia protested.
"Almost. Not yet... Now!" Tom yelled.
"Hold tight!" Mr. Hartkins said as he slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed in protest, and everyone lurched forward against the restraints. As they all were pulled back into their seats, there were three large thumps against the back of the car. After the second impact, a thin crack crept up the rear window. Tiny drops of blood splattered onto the window directly beneath the point where the crack began.
Mr. Hartkins turned to the kids and said, "Stay here." He calmly retrieved an aluminum bat from beneath his seat and swung open the car door. Sauntering out toward the fallen squirrels, he walked with a sort of steely-eyed determination that Link would not have expected from his father.
Mr. Hartkins neared the back of the car. He lifted his bat above his shoulder and prepared to swing should the necessity arise. Everyone in the car watched with breathless anticipation. Once he rounded the taillight, he lowered the bat to his side. Then he casually pivoted and returned to his seat. Before entering the car, he stopped. "I almost forgot. Hold on kids. I'll be right back." When he reached one of the squirrels, now mangled beyond recognition, he squatted down next to it and said, "How were you running so fast?"
He paused dramatically as if waiting for a response. When none came, Mr. Hartkins returned to his seat and shut the door. After stowing his bat, he inserted the key into the ignition and started the car. He threw it into gear and pressed down on the accelerator. Once the car was moving again, he turned to Celia and said, "For some reason, the squirrels didn't have much to say. But don't worry. If we come across another one, I'll make sure to ask it the same question."
The car full of kids looked at Link's dad with admiration. Link couldn't help but be impressed by his father's decisive action and felt a surge of pride.
From the back seat, Ayden broke the stunned silence. "Moush" he said defiantly, though much softer than before.
"No," Mr. Hartkins corrected. "Not anymore. I believe you mean dead moush."
Ayden smiled, pleased to have won the argument.
47
Someone Has to Go
"We need to stop here and refuel. We'll run out of gas if we try to make it to Salida," Mr. Hartkins announced to the weary group of travelers as he exited the interstate. It felt like they had been driving forever. Wiscoby, more a refueling station than an actual town, doubled in size the instant anyone stopped to refuel.
Mr. Hartkins drove the car around the lot a couple of times, patiently waiting for the customer at the last pump, the one closest to the street, to finish.
Nobody asked why he did this, but Mr. Hartkins spoke his mind anyway. "In case something goes wrong," he said, "I want to position the car for the fastest possible getaway. Not that I think anything will go wrong. It's just to be safe."
Link wasn't sure whom his father was trying to convince. His decisive action with the squirrels made him the natural selection for leadership of the group. Besides, he was an adult ? an adult who had believed them after they had explained what had really happened with the dog and the polar bear. That kind of trust had to count for something.
Ordinarily, Link chafed under the leadership of others, but not this time. He was sick of making decisions. Constantly thinking for the group was exhausting, and he was thrilled at the prospect of no longer needing to do it.
"Mr. Hartkins?" Celia asked tentatively.
"Please, Celia, call me Joseph."
"Okay. Joseph? May I go to the bathroom?"
Mr. Hartkins thought about the request for a moment before responding, "All right, but we all stick together. And when I say stick together, I mean nobody strays farther than a couple of feet away. Nobody wanders off by themselves under any conditions. Understood?"
Everyone in the group nodded.
"I can't take my bat into the store or we'll look like we're trying to rob the place. So we need to take strength in our numbers. Does everyone still have the pepper spray I gave them?"
Everyone but Ayden, who was far too young for such things, removed the small spray canisters from their pockets and showed them to Mr. Hartkins. Link placed the camera strap around his shoulder and let the camera dangle limply by his side. According to Mrs. Greta, he was only supposed to use it as a last resort. And Jim Jim had implied that he'd need to use it against Raythuse. Link knew that using the camera before the right time could carry the additionally dangerous consequence of freeing a trapped Skia. But for all he knew, this convenience store would be the Hotel Dead End. Besides, he hadn't wanted to bring it up in front of his dad, but how much damage could pepper spray possibly inflict upon the walking dead? Assuming they even got close enough to use it.
Once they had all exited the car, Tom said, "Do you mind if I call Officer Dansby? I want to see if they have any news about Nana."
Mr. Hartkins scanned the parking lot for anything suspicious. After a few seconds, he turned back to Tom and said, "Fine, but make it quick."
Tom removed the card from his wallet. He punched in the first couple of digits but stopped half way through and pressed end. He said to Mr. Hartkins, "Would you mind if I stepped back inside the car for a bit of privacy?"
Link wondered why checking on his grandmother was something that he couldn't do with them around and noticed that his own misgivings about Tom's request were reflected in the
distressed eyes of his father.
Mr. Hartkins glanced at Celia with an unspoken question in his eyes about whether or not she could wait. He had learned the hard way with Ayden that the window of time needed to make it to the bathroom was seldom as wide as he would have hoped.
Celia grimaced and rolled her eyes. "Fine, go. We'll wait outside. I can hold it. Just hurry, Watcher," Celia pleaded. "I knew I shouldn't have had so much lemonade before we left. I always do this to myself. It just tasted so good. I still say straws are evil. How's a person supposed to gauge how much they've had to drink when they can't even see what they're drinking?"
Tom responded with stifled hostility. "I told you not to call me Watcher anymore. My name is Tom." He slammed the door to the car, placed the phone to his ear, and turned his back on Celia and the rest of the group.
Celia bent in close to Link and whispered, "What's up with Watcher?"
Link had no idea. As far as he could tell, Tom was simply being Tom. Link had come to expect this sort of thing from him over the last few days. He shrugged and removed the car's gas cap. "Isn't he always like this?"
It was true that during the first few encounters in school, Tom had seemed nice enough. But ever since the Broken had attacked Panch, the only shift in Tom's mood had been from brooding to angry and back again.
"No," Celia said. "He never talks much, but something is wrong. I've felt it the whole way here. You don't feel it?"
There was definitely something about Tom that rubbed Link the wrong way. It made him feel uneasy. Maybe Tom just needed time to process everything. Link knew