I pulled a piece of shredded cloth from the glass and felt the tightness in my chest wring those cracked ribs. “This here is a man divided from himself, Ed. He’s everywhere at once.”

“Let’s get back on the road,” Ed said, slipping the wallet into his pocket. “I’m driving, this time—least till we get your head looked at.” He slid behind the wheel, propping his peg leg against the gearshift.

We headed back around Rodger’s Bluff, out onto the open plain.

“Surprised we never got a call in on that old camper, ‘specially for a family man,” Ed said. “All those kids, missing their dad.”

A family man. Thinking hurt. “How are your kids, Ed?”

Ed glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Oh, fine. Andy—he can shoot a hole clear through a quarter at a hundred yards. Ben’s so good with the horses he could talk one off a cliff, all sweet-like. May’s got her first boyfriend—nice kid . . . You should get you some, Cap.”

“Some what?”

“Kids. Family. Someone to miss you when you’re gone.”

I nodded, but it made my head spin. My vision grew cloudy. “I think I may have hit myself harder than I thought, Ed. Having trouble seeing.”

“Aw shit!” Ed shouted, laying his foot on the gas.

“Jesus, Ed, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not—it’s him and his damn dust cloud.”

I spun in my seat and my head kept spinning, but I pinned my eyes down on the mangled front grill of the Winnebago. It sped up behind us, pouring dust into the sky. The glass of the windshield was dark, but I caught a flash of that salt-and-pepper behind the dash.

Ed gripped the wheel, tires sliding in the dirt. The Winnebago loomed large to the left. It felt like the very road itself tipped and dumped us onto our roof, rolling across the prairie. The siren lights shattered. The roof folded in. The shocks shook us like an angry rattlesnake as we landed back on the wheels.

I rested my forehead on the dashboard, waiting for the world to stop spinning. I heard Ed, then, panting like a thirsty coyote. Heard him grunt. There was a whine building in him that set my teeth on edge.

I opened my eyes as much as I dared—saw Ed heaving his shoulder against the caved-in driver’s door. It crushed in on him like a tin can, pinning his good leg down to the seat. It didn’t look so good anymore. He pounded at the door.

“Hold on, Ed, I’ll get the saw from the back.”

“Them damn birds are coming!” He clawed at the edge of the window, his nails folding back.

“Just a minute, buddy, I got you.” I fumbled at my door handle.

“Hurry, they’re coming!” His eyes rolled from me to the mirror.