Endurance - Jack Kilborn [18]
When the odometer hit the magic number, Letti rolled onto the narrow shoulder and coasted to a stop.
“Are we here?” Kelly said, poking her head up through the space in the front seats and giving JD a pat.
Letti checked the numbers again. Then she rechecked the map.
“According to this, yes. But there’s nothing here.”
“There.” Kelly pointed. “See the tire tracks?”
Letti followed her daughter’s finger, and saw two barely visible tracks, almost completely hidden by weeds, leading into the forest between a small gap in the trees.
“That’s not a road,” Florence said. “That’s not even a trail.”
“It matches up to the map. And look.”
Letti pointed to a tiny sign, hanging from a tree. It read RUSHMORE INN.
“Why would they paint the sign green?” Florence asked. “It blends into the trees. And it’s so small.”
Letti turned the wheel and pressed the gas.
“Letti, you can’t be serious. What if we get stuck?”
“We’re driving an Audi. It’s all-wheel drive.”
Florence clucked her tongue—something she did when she was displeased. “Let’s go back into town. I’m sure there are other rooms available. I’ll pay for it.”
Letti bristled at her mother’s words, and any doubts she had about this road vanished, replaced by anger. Pay for it? Now Letti was determined to see this through, even if they had to drive over a log jam to do it.
The Audi’s tires dug in and performed as advertised, traversing the bumps, divots, and rocks without getting stuck. But the suspension left something to be desired, the shocks bouncing them around like a carnival ride. Twenty yards into the woods the sun disappeared, forcing Letti to flick on her brights. Though overgrown, the path was relatively straight, and no trees or large obstacles got in their way.
Boy, it’s dark.
In southern Illinois, on the Great Plains, even a moonless night was starlit. But this was like swimming in ink. Letti had the window cracked open, and she could practically feel the darkness seeping in.
Then the car jolted, the front end tilting downward. Letti whacked her head against the steering wheel, causing the horn to honk, and JD bounced against the dashboard, uttering a surprised yelp.
Letti pushed herself back into her seat, but the car still canted on an angle, like they were driving down a steep hill.
“Mom?”
“We went into a hole, or a ditch, or something. Are you both okay?”
JD hopped onto Letti’s seat, his big paws between her legs. He growled at the driver’s side window.
“JD! Down!”
The growl became a sharp bark, and the dog’s entire body tensed. Letti stared where JD was looking, out into the woods. She saw only blackness.
“JD? What’s wrong, boy?”
Kelly patted his head, her voice full of concern. “There’s something out there, Mom. He senses it.”
Letti put a hand on his collar. JD was baring his teeth, and he stood rigid as a statue, his hackles up. The last time she’d seen the dog act this way was a few months ago, when someone tried to break into their house at three am. It turned out to be their drunken neighbor, mistaking their house for his. JD had gone Cujo at the intrusion, leaping at the door with such force he’d knocked out the security window.
She certainly didn’t want a repeat of that right now.
Letti pressed the brake and shifted the Audi into reverse, giving it a little gas.
The wheels whirred, but they remained stuck.
“I can’t see anything out there,” Florence said, her nose pressed to the glass. “It’s like staring into a grave at midnight.”
Letti gave it a little more gas, shouldering JD aside and watching the RPM gage jump.
The car still didn’t move. She wondered if the Audi was on its undercarriage, the wheels off the ground. She would have to go check, see if she could—
JD barked again, clipped and loud, surprising the shit out of her.
“JD! Down!”
Letti gave the dog a rough shove, pushing him off her lap and back into his seat. Then she reached for the door handle.
“Letti!” Florence yelled in her ear. “Don’t get out of the