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In a way, I was glad he ignored it. I didn’t want to explain what it was I was crying about. As scared as I was of everything right now, that wasn’t what triggered the waterworks.
“It really is all still here. I can’t believe it.” Big semi-trucks zoomed past us on the interstate. Bright city lights framed one side of the road. I could see an uncountable number of restaurants and hotels, and suddenly it occurred to me I would be able to take real showers. And use a toilet like a civilized human.
“Elodie? Food? Do you want me to stop and get you some?”
He was being so nice, but then Trevor had been nice... kind of. Once I’d started cooperating with the insane world he’d invented, once I’d known all the triggers that made him angry and worked to skirt around them.
“C-can I have a burger and some fries?”
He nodded and took the exit off the interstate. We went through the drive-through, and about fifteen minutes later, we were back in motion.
“There’s a rest stop ten miles up the road. We’ll stop there to eat.”
“Okay.”
At the rest stop, we ate quietly. It was the best thing I’d ever had. As far as I knew. And soda. Holy shit. Soda, my new friend. I’d spent months drinking what I’d considered to be possibly questionable water—which Trevor had really just bought at the store with everything else. He couldn’t have pretended the park had some never ending supply of other beverages?
I was sure I must look like a pig, the way I was eating. But Shannon was busy with his own burger and fries. He seemed okay with silence. If we got down to it, Shannon seemed strangely calm and okay with just about everything. What the hell did he do for a living? Black ops? Contract killer? Did he torture people?
He seemed uncomfortably at home with other people’s suffering. So much so that I was shocked he’d had it in him to give any kind of shit about my outcome at all. And I wondered idly if he’d worked past that and was now suddenly over giving any kind of shit about it.
Trevor was the type who’d always had to be talking, and everything out of his mouth had been either baiting me for a fight or had seemed like a weird attempt at gaining my approval. Shannon didn’t seem to give a fuck what I approved of.
When we were finished, he went to throw out the trash. When he came back, he said, “Use the bathroom now if you need to. I’m not stopping again until I’m ready to stop for the night.”
I got out of the SUV, and he followed me up to the ladies’ room. He went inside and had a look around. I don’t know what or who he was looking for. I’m not sure if he had some paranoia that made him check the safety of every space before using it or if he thought there might be some other person in there, and I might ask for help.
Whatever he was looking for, when he was satisfied with what he saw—or didn’t see—he went outside to wait.
I can’t describe the luxury and meaning of an actual bathroom. I’d spent long periods of time back in the park just standing in the suite’s bathroom, wishing flushing toilets and hot showers were still a thing. And now they were. It was like Christmas. I flushed every toilet. I turned on every faucet.
I know that’s extremely strange, but it was like I couldn’t quite believe these were real things that functioned, and I had to test them all out just to make sure the world still worked. It was like... if every sink and toilet worked, grocery stores and malls still existed. That’s just the leap my brain made. Even seeing all the lights off the interstate and going through a drive-thru, I still felt the need to test the reality of every modern convenience I came upon. Just to be sure.
When I got outside, Shannon gave me another of those assessing cold stares. He’d obviously heard all the flushing and running water. Before I knew what was happening, he’d swiftly spun me around and pressed me against the brick wall outside. He patted me down.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said after a moment.
“W-what was that about?”
“Making sure you didn’t make a weapon or have a cell phone.”
“Make a weapon out of what?” And as if some dinky rest stop bathroom weapon was going to have any effect against someone like him. I wasn’t that suicidal.
“You were in there a while, and then there was all the flushing and faucets. I thought you might be masking some activity you didn’t want me to know about like making a weapon or calling for help.”
The more he worried I was going to kill him or call for help, the more I worried that maybe I really needed to be considering those options.
He kept a brisk pace back to the SUV while I stumbled along—like I’d just learned to walk last week—trying to keep up with him.
“Where the hell would I have gotten a cell phone?” I asked when I reached the passenger door, already out of breath. As if Trevor would have let me have one. Yeah, we had electricity. We could have kept one charged, but that would have completely defeated his end-of-the-world charade.
“There could have been one in the tower when we went up for shoes. I should have gone in with you and watched, but you were already so skittish, and I was more concerned with getting you out of the park undetected.”
“In the reality I was living in, cell phones no longer functioned, and even if they did, the cell phone companies would have all collapsed, preventing service from being provided. And the battery would have died anyway. So, no, I didn’t have a cell phone.”
“Right,” he said, looking almost human in his momentary embarrassment. “I can’t believe how elaborate his scam was.”
The way he said it, it seemed like some part of him respected or was impressed with the effort. Like professional admiration or something.
