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as you’re about to die.”
    With those words lingering, I stand up and stare down at both men. By this time, a small crowd has formed around us, watching.
    “Stevie, JayJay, there may not be any law in this town, but that won’t stop atonement from creeping up on you,” I tell them. “I came here for a reason, so don’t go thinking you’re not being watched.” I pat them both on the shoulder and leave them there, bleeding and moaning.
    I know my work is done. I’ve managed to effectively take their minds off revenge against Nessa, and maybe at the same time I’ve put a little consciousness of consequences in their minds. Who knows? Stranger things have happened.
    As I pass by the restaurant doors, Nessa comes racing out.
    “Wait!” she calls to me. “How did you know? How did you know they were coming after me?”
    Ah, the moment of truth. “Did you ask God to protect your unborn baby?” I ask her, and by the way her eyes widen and by the way she places a protective hand on her still-flat stomach, I can guess her answer. “He heard you.”
    I don’t know if this is the truth, of course, but I like to think it is. I like to believe that in a world full of ugliness and brutality, there is one beacon of hope and light. That if someone prays hard enough, then a higher power is listening and sending me problems to fix. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful notion?
    I get into my Cat and, without looking back, zoom out of Badlupa and resume my journey.

Chapter Two
     
    My little side trip only took about forty-five minutes total, but by the time I hit Interstate 40 again, it’s late in the day. I don’t like traveling at night, especially as a woman alone, even though I am equipped with a small arsenal. Though the roads are mostly deserted during the day, when the sun sets it’s a whole different story. I find this especially true in the desert states such as New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada. I suppose it has to with the temperature; just like all creepy-crawly things, the poisonous population of mankind comes out when it’s cooler.
    I have a slight headache, a minor side effect of the vision. Usually, I can handle them. Hell, I’ve been living with this my whole life. But the glare of the fading sun shimmering off the hot sand manages to puncture through my dark glasses, and it’s really annoying. So when I come across a forgotten and abandoned rest stop, I pull off the highway. In the twilight I can see the place is deserted. The sidewalks are busted up, as are the bathroom facilities. The metal picnic tables are rusted through, a most impressive feat since the average rainfall in this area is less than what I’ve peed today. But the one nice thing that’s remained standing are the trees that obviously were planted here some time ago to add a comfortable and inviting touch, back when people actually traveled the freeways. I drive my ATV around until it rests behind the fattest tree base. I cut the engine, sit in the driver’s seat, and wait. I am listening for anything out of the ordinary, some sign that I have been followed. But all I hear are the mating calls of crickets around me. After a few more minutes, I am satisfied and exit my vehicle to retrieve my sleeping gear from the flatbed. All of my worldly possessions are packed well and tied down under waterproof tarps and ropes—my tent and sleeping bag, food rations, clothes, extra water, and various odds and ends from my many years of traveling. Also included is a fifty-gallon drum of gasoline. I don’t have much in the way of possessions, but I don’t need much.
    I lay out my sleeping gear before grabbing an MRE, otherwise known as Meals Ready-to-Eat, for dinner. I open the pack and bring out the various contained food items, glad I ate the last of the pork patties a while ago. Eating those things requires lots of water because they’re dry as sand. So are the cakes and breads. I like it when I find either M&Ms or Skittles in the MRE; that’s always