Starting with getting a car. I was lucky – it only took me a day to find what I was looking for.

 

A camper was, of course, out. I needed something I could park in a city, although I had no intention of driving into Manhattan, but rather finding a park and ride or something. But I also wanted something we could sleep in in a pinch.

 

I ended up with, of all things, a beaten up Mercedes. It was so cheap I checked the trunk for bodies before driving off. I heard one story about a TV presenter who, as part of a stunt, bought a cheap ancient Merc in Miami. It didn’t have a body in the trunk. Just a bloody hoodie.

 

Presumably they disposed of the body before dumping the car. The only thing I found in the trunk of this one was an empty beer cooler, which I decided we’d just keep. Probably not for beer, mind. For soda, though, it would be perfect. It smelled of cheap cleaning fluid, but it started, it had been serviced, and the seats were leather.

 

If we broke down it would be entirely my fault, and I’d take full responsibility for it. I managed to get basic insurance quickly – fortunately, car insurance agencies seem to be used to wheeled impulse buys. Kanesha laughed when she saw it.

 

“Okay, why was it cheap?”

 

“I don’t know. I checked it for bodies. It probably drinks gas like nothing else, but we can sleep in it if we need to.”

 

She walked around the car, then nodded. “Okay.”

 

“I also got the windscreen washer fluid filled, and I got like a car first aid kit.” I grinned. “So…”

 

“I packed. You still need to.”

 

I also had to tell the landlord I’d be gone for two weeks, otherwise they’d put notices on my door and it would become obvious to a thief that I wasn’t there. And pack.

 

But then we could get out of here, and I found myself quite antsy to. And to some place that wasn’t Los Angeles.

 

That was somebody else’s problem, though. I knew that at some deep level. Not my issue to fix. And as frustrating as that was, I was also relieved. I had, after all, quite enough on my plate without yet more stuff to worry about. This trip would probably cause me to run into something, too.

 

Or just hunters, like dreadlock guy, although he’d apparently satisfied himself that I wasn’t a threat or whatever he’d been worried about and, well, left. Unless he’d gone the same way we were.

 

By the time I got back to the car, Kanesha had filled the cooler with soda, stocked up on snacks and was eyeing the entertainment system. “Won’t hook up phones.”

 

“We can get some CDs.” For now, I tuned the radio. It crackled, then hooked on to a station. No, it wouldn’t hook up a phone or get Sirius, but there was still radio.

 

And there was us, and heading out of town with the road beneath our wheels, at least as fast as DC’s traffic allowed.

 

No sense of foreboding, either. But that meant only that the threat was not immediate.

 

For now, though, I decided to enjoy the open road.