EDGAR ON HIS Harley, Hatcher following. Hatcher knew they were heading east, but had no idea where. The area was remote, all rolling prairie and farmland. He weighed competing ideas on how to proceed, such as simply veering off to the shoulder and taking a wide arc to turn around and head back without giving any signal, or creeping up to the rear of Edgar’s bike, flooring the accelerator, then leaving whatever twisted mangle was left of the snot and his motorcycle in the road and heading back. Before he could come up with any more options, Edgar pulled into a gas station and coasted to a stop. It was the only business Hatcher had seen in miles. He watched Edgar park the bike near the tiny clerk’s booth, exchange some words with the guy behind the glass, then walk over and sit himself in the passenger seat of Vivian’s rental. “What the hell are you trying to pull?” Hatcher said. “The middle of nowhere isn’t what I agreed to.” “Keep on going the same direction. It’s not far now.”
