Free Hope and Undead Elvis by Ian Thomas Healy Page B

still held all five bullets. She didn't plan to shoot any of them anytime soon, but it seemed at every turn, her plans were being subsumed in some greater scheme of the universe.
    She brushed as much sand as she could from the bench seat of The Way and lay down across it, her head right by the driver's side door so she could look up into the night sky. The breeze freshened a bit and she kicked off her boots so she could feel the air on her toes. She was so tired that she couldn't fall asleep. Instead she looked for shapes and pictures in the stars.
    The Big Dipper seemed to blur and beckon to her and all of a sudden she could see the Great Bear's outline. Her mind traced more patterns, some familiar, others which might have been lost to the vestiges of history. The Little Bear. The Dragon. The Harper. The Dancer.
    An orange streak flared high above her. A shooting star. She knew she should make a wish, but what? She thought maybe to wish the world back the way it was, but then realized the old world wasn't all that great of a place. Overpopulation. Starvation. Environmental collapse. War. Lots of miserable bastards crawling the face of the Earth, seeking but never finding solace. She'd been one of those miserable bastards. Did she really want that back?
    No, of course not.
    Maybe she should wish something selfish. She could wish away the baby, or to have enough food and water for her trip. She could wish for a peaceful death in her sleep where she wouldn't have the weight of the world upon her any longer. "No," she whispered. "I won't wish for that."
    After careful consideration, she decided to wish that the next incarnation of the world would be a nicer place than the last one had been; someplace she'd want a child to grow up in. She formed that thought into some kind of coherency in her mind, and then it vanished.
    No, not vanished; it was taken.
    Whatever she'd wished for, she thought perhaps it had been heard. Maybe someday she'd know what it was. She hoped it had been a good wish.
    "You're not sleeping, Li'l lady." Undead Elvis was a dark shadow blotting out the stars, but moonlight reflected from the corner of his sunglasses.
    "Sing to me, Elvis. Sing me to sleep."
    "My pleasure." He paused, as if searching for the right song. " Love me tender, love me sweet… "
    Hope closed her eyes and let herself be carried into peace on the wings of his voice.
     

Chapter Eleven
    Hope and Asher Harris
     
    The unexpected sound of an approaching engine jolted Hope from a dreamless sleep. She sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The sky had gone from satiny black to matte navy, and a pinkish orange glow highlighted the horizon. Even though she still felt groggy, the realization that the sun was going to rise brought her a joyous feeling.
    "Oh good, you're up. I was just gonna wake you." Undead Elvis leaned into the window. The pre-dawn light gave his white jumpsuit an ethereal glow. "Company's comin'."
    Hope shook her head to clear away the sleepy cobwebs. Unwilling to trust a stranger after Gabe's death, she took the Shepherds' gun from its case and tucked it into the waistband of her Catholic Schoolgirl skirt.
    A single headlight approached and resolved itself into a dusty motorcycle with a dusty rider. He sported a wild mane of gray hair and a full beard stained yellow from years of nicotine. He raised his old bomber goggles up onto his forehead and looked at The Way, stuck in the sand. "Good morning," he said in a voice worn down with many decades of road dust. "Looks like you folks found yourself a spot of trouble." His accent was a strange amalgam of distant regions.
    Hope stood beside Undead Elvis, one hand behind her back and wrapped around the pistol grip. "Hi. Yeah, nothing we can't handle, though."
    "Do you need some help? I'm sure I could assist you."
    "That's okay, mister. I think we got it under control."
    The man stripped off his riding gloves with slow, deliberate moves. The sound of Velcro tabs