Page 50 of Endurance

“I’m sure. Tyler needs you more than I do,” I replied without looking at him.

At some point, Colton must have left. I didn’t remember him walking away, nor did I remember the long drive back to my house. One minute I was at the track, and the next minute I found myself sitting at my kitchen table with an unopened bottle of Jack and my last two remaining oxycodone pills sitting in front of me.

16

Kallie

Three hours into the drive to Napa Valley, Gabby and I sang along with The Ataris—completely off-key and not caring one little bit. “Boys of Summer” was one of our favorites, and it brought back so many memories from our younger years.

Having just driven through the flat and dusty terrain of Bakersfield, we’d finally gotten past the obstruction of oil pumping units and agricultural fields to a more scenic route—if one could call it such. The narrow asphalt road on which we traveled was full of twists and turns, with steep drop-offs. I nervously looked ahead, seeing nothing but tumbleweeds and potholes to avoid.

“You seem antsy,” Gabby said.

I eyed her questioningly.

“Antsy?”

“Yeah. I wonder why they call it that anyway—antsy. It’s kind of a dumb word when you think about it. Ants don’t seem anxious. They seem pretty calm and hardworking when building their little anthills.”

I laughed.

“I guess I never thought about it. But then again, why do we call someone ‘nutty’ when they’re acting crazy? Or what about harebrained? I don’t think the peanuts and rabbits of the world would take kindly to the reference,” I pointed out.

“True.”

Glancing at my cell phone mounted on the dash, I flicked my finger against it as if somehow the action would spark cell service. My phone had been fading from one bar to no bars ever since we got off I-5 and headed toward Bakersfield.

“Gabby, I have no clue where we are.”

“Just keep driving toward the mountains, then we’ll double back the way we came.”

“Mountains? All I see are big brown hills. What looked like mountains from a distance turned out to be a whole lot of nothing.”

“Because we haven’t gotten there yet. Besides, it’s an adventure! For someone who’s usually so free-spirited, you’re worrying too much. Just go with it.”

“I don’t think we should go any further. I’m going to turn around. I’m getting really nervous about being in the middle of nowhere without a cell phone signal. I mean, what if—” I was interrupted by a loud thud from underneath the car. “Oh my god! Did I just hit something?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see an animal or anything.”

My heart sank, thinking I may have run over a furry critter when I distractedly looked at the GPS map.

“Gabs, I’m pretty sure I just killed Thumper.”

However, the drumming sound continued, making me all but certain I hadn’t hit anything. I began to wonder if there might be something wrong with the car itself. My concern grew as the incessant thump-thump noise continued over and over again in a steady rhythm.

Gabby turned down the radio to hear where the sound was coming from. Then she laughed and pointed to the side view mirror.

“No, you didn’t kill Thumper, but you may have run over a nail or something sharp. Or maybe it was the pothole you hit a mile back. I’m pretty sure you have a flat tire.”

“A flat! Why are you laughing? That’s not funny!” I scowled, annoyed that she somehow found this humorous, and cautiously maneuvered the car to the side of the road until it came to a stop. Looking at my phone once again, I saw the words ‘no service’ where the little bars should have been. “Do you have cell signal?”

Gabby pulled her phone from her purse and glanced at the screen.

“Nope.”

“What are we going to do now? Without cell service, neither one of us can call AAA.”

“I can change a tire. No sweat. I’ve got this,chica. Pop the trunk.”

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