Hope and Undead Elvis - By Ian Thomas Healy Page 0,13

small handful of peanuts.

Undead Elvis helped to distract her by showing her how to use the pistol. Turn the safety on and off with that switch. Cock it if she knows she's going to fire it. Squeeze the trigger instead of jerking it.

"I wish we'd found a few more bullets," he said. "I'd have liked you to take a couple practice shots. Six ain't gonna get you very far in a real fight."

"You really think we'll run into that kind of trouble? It seems like nobody's left but us."

"The Shepherds were around after," said Gabe.

"Were they? We don't know that."

"Still, maybe we can find some more bullets. Thirty-eight ammo's pretty common," said Undead Elvis.

"What happens if I run out of bullets?" asked Hope.

"You better hope you're the only one still standing."

"Oh."

The Way climbed a gentle slope. At the crest, Gabe stood on the brakes and the car fishtailed to a halt. All three occupants stared at the unexpected variation of the road ahead:

An intersection.

Chapter Six

Hope and Paradise

A side road connected to the two-lane blacktop. Instead of pavement, hard-packed gravel covered the road. A single green highway marker post sat next to the entrance with a broken yellow reflector riveted onto it.

Hope stared at it through the windshield. It had to be an illusion, a mirage of the heat and sand, fueled by her hunger and dehydration.

But Gabe saw it too, or he wouldn't have stopped The Way.

Undead Elvis leaned his head in through the broken rear window. "What are you thinkin' about doing here?"

"Take it," said Hope without hesitating.

"Are you sure? We don't know where it leads," said Gabe.

"We don't know where the road we're on now leads," said Hope.

"Graceland. Well, eventually," said Undead Elvis.

"But this side road is the first we've seen in how many miles?"

Gabe looked down. "I don't know, senorita. The odometer's broken."

"Look, for whatever reason, this road didn't disappear with everything else in the world. That means it's important, right? It's supposed to be here." Hope looked at the packed gravel. "Maybe we're supposed to follow it."

"What if it disappears while we're on it? Or it leads to nowhere?" asked Gabe.

Hope shrugged. "Then we're not any worse off than we are now. Look around you. Can you honestly tell me we're not already in the middle of nowhere?"

Gabe shrugged. "Good point."

He drove The Way up to the side road, slowed, and signaled before turning left. Gravel crunched under the tires. Hope smiled and daydreamed about where the mysterious road might lead. Unlike the two-lane highway they'd left behind, the gravel track meandered around the bases of mountain-sized sand dunes. The change from simple straight-line travel made all three occupants perk up a bit. Even the tone of The Way's engine changed, as if it, too, were pleased to have some variety in its travels. They wove through the dunes for what felt like hours, if time had any meaning. At long last, they swung around a final curve, and Paradise was laid out before them.

It might have been a patch of ground the size of a football field. After seeing the unending waves of yellow sand, the lush green of life and brilliance of water made Hope's eyes water and heart ache.

A pond of clear water sat amid a stand of trees, laden with colorful fruits. Instead of more sand, grass covered the ground except where flowering shrubs stuck up, dark green in a sea of sward.

Hope whispered, "Is it real?"

Neither Gabe nor Undead Elvis answered, but Gabe drove The Way the last few hundred feet and stopped where the crushed gravel road ended.

Hope fell out of the passenger side of the car. She was so exhausted and hungry that her legs wouldn't support her any longer, but she could still crawl. Gravel cut painful scratches into her knees and hands. She didn't care, for in a moment she was on sweet green grass, and no discomfort could lessen the impact of its scent and the gentle touch of its blades. She buried her face in the field, let the heady odors wash through her, and sobbed in wordless gratitude to whatever had caused this oasis to appear to them. She'd have welcomed death if it could have been in such a place.

"It's real," she repeated, like a mantra. "It's real."

Booted feet appeared beside her. "Are you all right, Li'l lady?"

"I'm not dreaming it, am I, Elvis? If I am, I don't want to wake up."

"It's real as anything else." He bent down and offered her