Not for a minute. Lying in bed that night, Dani told herself that the whole thing was just another of Linda’s hopelessly optimistic daydreams. There was absolutely no use waiting around indefinitely for rent money from the ranch house to provide an allowance. If she was going to escape it would have to be right away, even if she had to hitchhike or stow away in the back of a truck. But the very next day Dani was in the living room when she noticed a strange purring noise that seemed to be coming from Silver Avenue. Getting on her knees on the daybed, she peered out through a rip in the ragged drapes, in time to see a strange-looking black vehicle pulling to a stop right in front of the cabin. Built high off the ground, the black car-truck-tank—whatever it was—had oversized wheels and huge fat tires. There were carrying racks on the roof, and in front of the racks there was a roundish thing that looked like some kind of turret or fuel tank. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.
