Page 35 of Waylaid in Whittier

“I had no idea we were driving through a tunnel,” Millie said. “You know how I feel about enclosed spaces.”

“This isn’t just any tunnel,” Sharky said. “It’s the longest highway tunnel in North America. At least that’s what I read.”

“Great,” she groaned. “And knowing I’ll be in the longest tunnel is supposed to make me feel better?”

“You’ll be fine. The Flamethrower will have us on the other side before you know it.”

The pair had almost made it to the tunnel’s entrance when they came to an abrupt halt.

“Now what?”

“There’s something blocking the road.” Sharky placed his foot on the pavement. “It looks like a moose.”

“A moose?”

Bam. Bam. Bam.

A man emerged from around the side and began banging large metal discs together in an effort to get the moose to move.

Appearing utterly unfazed by the racket, the enormous creature took his time meandering past the entrance and rounding the corner.

Traffic crept forward. By the time they reached the entrance, they were once again traveling at a decent speed.

“It’s pitch black in here.” Sharky flipped his emergency flashers on, alerting the drivers behind him to the small scooter.

The farther they went, the darker it got, to the point Millie could feel her claustrophobia kicking in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You doing okay?” Sharky asked.

“Yes. As long as I keep my eyes closed.”

“I’ll let you know when we’re close to the other side.”

“Thanks.” She forced her thoughts to other, more pleasant things. At least Elvira was out of jail. If she didn’t board the Siren of the Seas while they were in Whittier, she would be out of luck. They were heading south…much farther south…in a matter of days.

As much as she loved Alaska, Millie was ready for new adventures. From what Nic had said, they were either going to Hawaii for the next repositioning cruise or to the Mediterranean.

Millie had never been to the Mediterranean, and she was secretly hoping it would make the cut. Visiting Greece, the islands, Italy, maybe even the French Riviera would be a dream come true.

“I see daylight up ahead.”

She opened her eyes, relieved to discover they were almost through. “Thank goodness.”

“I gotta admit, riding on the scooter through the tunnel was a little scary.” Sharky slowed. “Which way?”

Millie consulted the directions. “Turn left at the stop sign.”

“You got it.”

The route took them away from the tunnel, down a dirt road, and into a clearing. On one side of the clearing was a long, low wooden structure.

To the left was a two-story clapboard building. Beyond the buildings was an open field with a cluster of RVs arranged in a semi-circle.

Sharky let out a low whistle. “This is quite the setup.”

“Rustic living at its finest,” Millie quipped. “I see Brody, Cat and Annette over by their fancy set of wheels.”

“I see them too.” Sharky hit the gas. The scooter sped along until reaching the trio.

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