Hope and Undead Elvis - By Ian Thomas Healy Page 0,28

answer, but Undead Elvis said, "Graceland."

"Graceland… Yes, I can see why you'd want to go there. That's a long journey on a road fraught with peril. If you survive the gauntlet, you'll find peace and safety there."

"Gauntlet?" Hope looked down at her plate and realized she'd already eaten her steak. It had been so delicious she couldn't stop until forced to by an empty plate. Ash served her another portion.

"Not everyone on the road is as rational or contrite as I."

"Contrite? What do you have to be sorry for?"

Ash smiled. "For hurtful words spoken out of spite. Someday perhaps I will be forgiven for them."

"They must have been pretty bad words."

"They were."

Hope touched her tummy. "Maybe my baby will forgive you."

"Baby?" Ash raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. So this guy we met back to the west, he might have been an angel. He said I'm pregnant and my baby will fix this broken world. Crazy shit, right? The Virgin Stripper, that's me."

Ash set down his plate, eyes wide as hubcaps. "A virgin birth? A miracle?"

"Hey, I didn't ask for this. I'm no saint."

New life seemed to radiate from Ash. Maybe he was a pious man, thought Hope.

"Listen, friend," said Undead Elvis. "Before you go, would you help us get the car out of the ditch?"

"Yes! Yes, of course!" Ash jumped to his feet with the spry moves of a much younger man.

Despite full bellies and greasy fingers, the three of them set about freeing The Way from its sandy entrapment. Hope sat behind the wheel and worked the clutch at Undead Elvis's direction, while he and Ash bent their shoulders to the fenders. After several minutes of grunting and swearing, wheelspin and flying sand, The Way found enough traction for Hope to steer it back onto the pavement once more. Now that the sun had risen, she could see all the new damage the hardy car had sustained in the jump and rough landing. Nevertheless, the engine still pulled strong, and the car itself seemed eager to get underway.

"Thanks, Ash," said Hope. "You saved us."

Ash shook his head and grinned. "Not like you've saved me, Hope. Please, let me give you a few things to repay you."

"I can't take a gift from you. You're going to need whatever you've got."

"No, I'm not." Ash's eyes shone in the sun. "You've given me hope. The first I've felt in more years than I can count." And with that, he pulled treasures from his saddlebags and handed them to Hope. "Take it. Please, take it all." He passed along his camp stove, plate and cup, and the large knife he'd used to butcher the lamb. Salt and pepper shakers. A half-used roll of aluminum foil. A Bible.

"Please don't do this." Hope felt inexplicable sadness as he divested himself of his worldly goods. "You'll die."

Ash took her hand in a gentle grip. "I've been waiting to for so very long, Hope. Let me give you this gift before I go to find Paradise."

"You mean that oasis? I told you, it's probably gone."

Ash hopped onto his motorcycle. "Thank you both. You've brought joy to me. I'd forgotten what that felt like." He revved the bike's engine.

"Jesus, you really are going to try it. A hundred and five, Ash! You've got to go that fast! A hundred and five!" Hope screamed over the bike's racing motor.

Ash spun the rear wheel, laying rubber like a drag racer, and roared toward the bridge. He looked back once and smiled.

Hope clutched at Undead Elvis. "He's crazy. He's not going fast enough. What is he doing?"

Undead Elvis said nothing.

Ash flew off the bridge. As the motorcycle soared through the sky, he jumped off the saddle, legs together and arms outstretched in a crucifixion pose. He hung there for a moment as the bike smashed into the cliff wall, falling well short of the far end of the bridge.

Light flared, and Asher Harris was gone. A small white bird flapped its wings in his place and climbed until Hope could no longer see it.

She let Undead Elvis hold her as the last echoes of the crash died away. "Is everyone we meet going to die?"

"I don't know, Li'l lady."

"I hope he got what he wanted."

Undead Elvis didn't reply.

Chapter Twelve

Hope and Ashes

The Way rumbled down the highway as the sun made its slow trek across the sky. Hope stayed quiet, keeping the turmoil of her thoughts unspoken. Undead Elvis plucked at the ukulele without much enthusiasm, it seemed. The sand of the surrounding landscape