"Howard, you turn this car around and get back on that highway." June was shouting.

"Jesus Christ!" Randy snapped, covering his ears.

Howard glared into the back seat. "You watch our tongue, young man. Don't think you're too old for a thrashing. I'll give it to you right here, if you ask for it."

Randy closed his eyes and bit his lip.

Howard threw a quick glare at Crystal, as if daring her to say anything, then stepped on the gas. The car jerked forward, leaving the highway with its crawling traffic behind them in a cloud of dust. June muttered to herself, letting out a sharp shriek as the station wagon bounced over a pothole in the rutted clay road. They were heading into another canyon, a narrower canyon, following the tortuous windings of a small stream which flowed below the road at their left.

"Will you all just calm down," Howard said, sounding as if he was trying to calm himself down as well. "I've taken this route before. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. We'll be back on the interstate before you know it. And then we'll find ourselves a campground with a swimming pool."

Randy glanced at Crystal, and they both rolled their eyes! They'd both been through similar routines countless times before.

The road got better, then worse, then better again. In places the road had been washed toward the stream, leaving hardly room enough for the car to squeeze between the drop-off and the wall, of the canyon. If they didn't roll off into the stream or get stuck in a pothole, or blow out a tire on one of the sharp rocks that threatened every few feet, then it would be a miracle.

"Notice the tire tracks," Howard said, his gaze glued to the road ahead as he maneuvered the station wagon. "We're not the only ones who have taken this road recently. It seems as if there are still a few other brave souls left in the world."