It’s three hours from Vegas to Barstow. Eileen made the drive in

two. She was just outside the city when her car began to blink

—a red light beneath a single bar of fuel. She slowed down. She held her

breath. She looked up—distant lights; dreary forms.

Far away.

She bit her nails. She hit her steering wheel. She scanned her

surroundings. A sign appeared: GAS – LODGING. She pulled … Read the rest