Page 51 of Endurance

I looked under the dash in search of the trunk latch as Gabby climbed out. After finding it, I killed the engine and joined her at the back of the car. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring down into the trunk, seeming perplexed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Tools. There’s a tire and a jack here, but no lug wrench.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I can’t change the tire.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” She just shrugged, and I threw up my arms in exasperation. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I began to pace. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to her and stayed straight on the route to our intended destination. Turning back to the car, I opened the door to the backseat, pulled our luggage out, and set the bags down on the side of the road.

“What are you doing, Kals?”

“I’m looking for tools. Maybe the rental agency put them in the backseat for some reason.”

“I doubt it,” she said skeptically.

Glancing back at her, I let out a breath in frustration.

“Maybe, maybe not. Are you just going to stand there watching me, or are you going to help me look?”

Gabby went to the opposite side of the car and began to search around. We lifted the floormats and flipped down the back seat but came up empty-handed.

“Damnit!” I cursed, slamming my hand on the top of the car.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not for nothing, but when you spotted the mountains and wanted to take pictures, my gut told me it was a bad idea. But no—instead, I listened to you when you said, ‘We have time, Kallie. Just detour through Bakersfield.’ Now, here we are, somewhere on route 178, with a flat and no way to call for a tow. Even if we could fix it, I have no idea how to get us back.”

“I’m really am sorry, Kallie,” she repeated. “But, in my defense, the rental company is to blame for the missing tools. I would have been able to change the tire if it weren’t for that.”

“We should have just stuck to GPS. At least then we would have been around civilization,” I grumbled. “The last thing we passed was a gas station about ten miles back.”

“Someone is bound to come down this road eventually. Until then, I packed wine.”

I tossed her a skeptical look.

“Wine? How is that supposed to help?”

“Wine always helps,” she said, her voice full of optimism as she began rummaging through her suitcase on the side of the road. “When I went out this morning to grab snacks for the trip, I picked up a couple of bottles for us to drink at the hotel.”

As I watched her struggle with the corkscrew, I couldn’t help but laugh and hoped she was right. Someone would have to drive by eventually. Until then, all we could do was wait it out.

Closing the trunk, I climbed onto the back of the car and took a seat. The sun was blisteringly hot, and my hair was sticky on my neck. Using the hair tie I had wrapped around my wrist, I bound the pink and blonde into a loose bun on top of my head. Feeling the heat just as I was, Gabby mimicked my actions and then handed me a bottle of white.

“I didn’t think to pack cups,” she told me after she took a swig straight from a bottle that she’d kept for herself.

“I don’t think we need to worry about being civilized when there is literally no sign of civilization anywhere,” I joked. Holding up my bottle, I clinked it to hers, then took a sip. “If it weren’t so damn hot, I’d suggest we walk back to the gas station.”

“I second that. I’m not walking anywhere in this heat,” she agreed.

“What did you buy for snacks?”

“Lots of stuff.” Reaching into the backseat, she procured two large Ziplock bags of goodies, then took a seat next to me on the back of the car.

“If Sloan were here, I’d bet he would be able to change the tire without tools,” I said through a mouthful of kettle chips.

“There’s no way to MacGyver your way through changing a tire. I don’t care how sexy he is—he’s not a miracle worker. What we need is a fairy godmother to come bibbiti-bobbiti-boo us out of this.”

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