Page 34 of Silent Shadows

“You laugh more than I expected,” she whispers into the dark.

The comment catches me off guard.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “More redneck, for sure. More intense, maybe.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Another soft laugh from above. Then quiet again.

Real quiet this time.

Somewhere in the middle of it, with the desert wind brushing softly against the outside of the Machine and Daisy Bennett breathing faintly one bunk above me, I realize I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

I wake before sunrise.

Years of fieldwork trained it into me. My body just knows.

The Machine is still dark and quiet as I climb carefully from my bunk, trying not to wake anyone.

I’m halfway through making coffee when another voice speaks behind me.

“You’re one of those people, too?”

I turn.

Daisy stands there in her sleep shorts and messy hair, looking softer without the sharp edge she usually wears so deliberately.

“One of what people?”

“The morning ones.”

“It’s five-thirty.”

“Exactly.”

I hide a smile by turning back toward the coffee maker. “You want some?”

She squints, her skepticism obvious. “How good is your coffee?”

“I make excellent coffee.”

“That was a very confident answer.”

“I did say I contain multitudes,” I remind her.

She snorts softly and slides onto the bench seat while I pour two cups.

The rest of the crew remains dead asleep as we sit there in the soft early morning light, sipping coffee in surprising peace.

Then Daisy glances toward the windshield, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Is that a diner?”

I follow her gaze toward the tiny roadside building across the lot.

“Yeah.”