AT SUNRISE there was a sign. PETERSSEN SILVER MINE, 2 MI. They’d been driving for five and a half hours, going north and northwest, and staying off the main roads. A dozen times she’d hit dead ends and closed roads and had turned around, the state seeming determined not to allow her to travel in any direct path. The night finally eased, giving way to grey light. Josie was determined to find an obscure place to park, to hide the Chateau and herself. What she was looking for, really, was a cave, but knew this was too much to ask. A mine seemed a close approximation. “You guys interested in an old silver mine?” she yelled back to the kids. They’d been asleep all night, and only now were making noises implying they were waking up. Neither said anything. “You still asleep?” she asked. “No,” Ana said. “Let’s go to a silver mine,” Josie said. She was slap-happy, jittery from the coffee she’d bought from the last gas station and had drunk hot, then warm, then cool, then cold.
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