The Demon Road Trilogy: The Complete Collection: Demon Road; Desolation; American Monsters

“Like I said, we all have issues.”

Amber glared. “Talking to you is like talking to a … a … Whatever.”

She folded her arms and directed her glare out of the window. She didn’t intend to go to sleep.

She woke to farmland and trees, a full bladder and a rumbling stomach. “Where are we?”

“Outside Atlanta,” said Milo. “You can go back to sleep if you like.”

She sat up straighter, pulled her cap off. “No. If I sleep any more, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” The thought struck her. “Where are we sleeping tonight?”

“We’ll find a motel.”

“It better be a nice one. I’ve seen motels on TV and they look horrible.” They approached a gas station. “Can we stop here? I’m starving. And thirsty.”

“There’s a bottle of water in the glove box,” said Milo, and didn’t slow down.

She gaped as they drove by. “Seriously? Why didn’t you stop? I need food!”

“We’re going to be stopping in an hour or so to fill the tank – you can eat then. It’s going to be the first full tank she’s had in twelve years.”

“Is that so? Well, isn’t that lovely? I am really, really happy for your car, Milo, but what about me?”

“Your parents and their friends, with all their vast resources, are searching for you. I’m not going to stop this car unless I absolutely have to. Now drink your water.”

She punched the release for the glove box. It popped open and a bottle of water rolled off the stack of maps into her hand. She looked at the gun in its holster, sitting quietly in the light cast by the small bulb, and closed it up.

“I also have to pee,” she said, twisting the cap off.

“Hold it in.”

Right before she took a swig of water, she scowled. “I’m not sure I like you.”

Milo shrugged. That annoyed her even more.

The water soothed her parched throat, but she didn’t drink much of it – her bladder was full enough as it was. “We must have driven more than eight hours by now, right?” she asked. “We’ve been on the road since before seven. It’s almost five now. That’s, like … ten hours.”

“It took you a disturbingly long while to add that up.”

“Whatever. So why can you only drive for eight hours?”

“On average.”

Amber sighed. “Why can you only drive for eight hours on average?”

“Because that’s my rule.”

She looked at him. “You’re not a sharer, are you? Okay, fine, let’s keep this professional. Let’s keep this employer and employee. Let’s talk about, like, the mission. What do you know about this Dacre Shanks guy?”

“Just what Edgar told us.”

“What do you think he’ll be like? Do you think he’ll be nice?”

“There are no nice serial killers.”

“Well, I know that,” said Amber, “but he’s not going to kill us on sight or anything, is he?”

“Don’t know.” Milo took a small iPad from his jacket. “Look him up.”

She grabbed it off him. “You’re allowed to have internet access, but I’m not? How is that fair?”

“Because your parents have no idea who I am, whereas they’ve undoubtedly got their eyes on your email account.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh yeah.”

She tapped on the screen for the search engine and put in Shanks’s name.

“Dacre Shanks,” she read, “the serial killer known as the Family Man. Oh God, do you know what he did? He kidnapped people that looked alike to make up a perfect family. Then he killed them all and started again. Says here he killed over three dozen people before he was shot to death, most of them in and around Springton, Wisconsin. We’re actually going to try to talk to this guy?”

“All we need him to do is give us the name of the man who cheated the Shining Demon.”

“And why should he give it to us when he didn’t give it to Edgar?”

“Because Edgar posed no threat,” Milo said. “Whereas we do.”

“Do we? He’s a serial killer who, like, came back from the grave. I know you’ve got your guns and you’re really good at being horrible to people, but do you seriously think you can threaten him?”

Milo frowned. “I’m not horrible to people.”

“Really? You really don’t think you’re horrible to people?”

“No,” he said, a little defensively. “I’m nice. Everyone says it.”

“Oh man,” said Amber. “People have lied to you. Like, a lot. But even if we could threaten him – is that a good idea, to threaten a serial killer who’s come back from the dead?”

“I’ve threatened worse.”

“Worse how?”

“Just worse.”

She sighed. “Fine. Don’t elaborate. How are we supposed to find him, anyway? What if he isn’t in Springton anymore?”

“We’ll find him,” said Milo. “We’re on the blackroads now.”

“The what?”

“Guy I knew once called them the blackroads – roads connecting points of darkness, criss-crossing America. Stay on the blackroads and you’ll eventually meet every unholy horror the country has to offer. It’s a network. Some people call it the Dark Highway, or the Demon Road. It’s never the same route twice and there are no maps to guide the way.”