“What was that?” the driver asked, keeping pace.

“I’m not from around here,” she repeated, louder.

He shook his head. “Sorry, still can’t hear you.” He pulled in ahead of her and Amber stopped walking. He got out, holding a map. He wore a bowling shirt that did nothing to hide his bulk.

“I’m not from around here,” Amber told him again.

“I’m just looking for Daggett Road,” he explained, coming closer.

“I can’t help you,” said Amber. “I don’t live here, I’m not from here.”

“But look,” the man said, holding out the map. “I know where it is, I just don’t know where I am.”

Amber started to back up. “I can’t help you.”

“I won’t take up much of your time,” said the man. “I’m just trying to get to Daggett Road.”

“Please stay back.”

“Why?” the man asked, a wounded expression on his face. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m just asking for directions. Are you scared? Why are you scared? I’m just asking for directions.”

“And I told you I can’t help you.”

“But you haven’t even tried.”

“I’m not from the area.”

“I just want to find Daggett Road. Can you show me where we are on this map?”

“I don’t know where we are.”

“Of course you do,” the man said, and chuckled.

“Sir, I don’t know the name of the road we’re on, I don’t know how to find it on a map, and I don’t know where Daggett Road is. There’s a bunch of people down in the playground you could ask.”

“What playground?”

“You just passed it.”

“Yeah?” he said, and looked around. “Didn’t notice it. Maybe you could help me find the playground on the map?”

He stepped towards her and she held up a hand. “Stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop where you are.”

He laughed. “This is America, young lady. Land of the free. You can’t tell me what to do. If I want to walk, I walk.”

He took another step, and another, matching her backwards steps.

She snarled. “Sir, if you take one more goddamn step, you’re going to regret it.”

“Yeah?” said the man, and then he showed her the gun he was holding under the map. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

Amber’s eyes widened. The gun was an automatic, and it had a silencer on the muzzle.

“Don’t do it,” the man said. “Don’t change. Moment I see horns, I’m putting a bullet between them.”

She didn’t need to ask him why he was here.

“Where is he?” the man said. “The Ghost. Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The Ghost of the Highway,” the man snapped. “I know he’s here with you, so where exactly is he?”