One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 15, page 2

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Umo Amuéné spotted the small blue sign in the distance alongside the two-lane highway. The reflectance from his auto’s headlights made the text almost illegible, but his sunglasses reduced the glare enough for him to read, “Welcome to Tuhanı! Population 1,873,” as it flashed past.

“Is this the town?” asked Lango. His gold necklace chains clinked softly as he twisted them around his index finger.

“Yes,” replied Umo through gritted teeth. Had Lango forgotten the name of their destination already? “Keep a lookout for East Crater Road. It’ll probably be on the right.” They were traveling north, after all.

Gogzhuè had informed them via the automobile telephone that the police’s search had been called off for the night. They hadn’t found Zhudıro. His auto most certainly was in police custody. It didn’t sound like they’d found the guns, which were probably still in Zhudıro’s auto--unless he’d managed to dump them somewhere.

Tuhanı had one stoplight, several blocks ahead of them. Umo thought he could just about see the far end of town, but it was difficult to be sure in the dark.

“Pine. Elm. Varıpío. Fété,” Lango recited the street names.

Hidden by his sunglasses, Umo rolled his eyes.

“Crater,” he interjected. “Tell me if you see Crater.”

The signal light was red, so Umo slowed his Rènzas sedan to a halt and waited. This was Main Street, signed as West and East on opposite sides of the intersection. No Crater Road yet.

Zhudıro was as good as gone. Umo appreciated it. He didn’t want to have to explain to Gogzhuè why he hadn’t killed the little Zhéporé-spawn. Gogzhuè wouldn’t understand concepts like “rule of law” and “killing is wrong.”

Instead, they could now focus on their primary mission: retrieving the guns and explosives.

Since the police had the auto under guard, Umo and Lango would have to approach this effort very carefully. They’d scope out the Kılímo residence and maybe swing by the local police station--wherever Zhudıro’s auto might be. Above all, they did not want to attract attention. Not yet, anyway.

The crosswalk signal for the path across the street they’d driven in on--Division Street--started blinking a red cross.

No other autos drove near the intersection. No pedestrians walked nearby, either. It’s small-town Sarıma at three o’clock in the morning. What do you expect?

The crosswalk signal turned a steady red, Main Street’s signal turned from blue to yellow, then yellow to red, and finally the light in front of Umo’s auto turned blue. He took his foot off the brake and eased through the intersection, continuing their search northward.

Less than a minute later, the town dwindled back to desert. No Crater Road had presented itself.

“Plague of Kínıtíní!” swore Umo.

Lango tittered, but stopped abruptly when Umo glared at him. Lango’s hands dropped to his lap, folded neatly together.

Umo wheeled the auto around and headed back into Tuhanı. Since it was East Crater Road, it should be parallel to East Main Street. It had to be there, somewhere. Lango must’ve just missed it.

“Pay attention this time, you Tara-fucking idiot. It may be the middle of the night, but we can’t drive around forever. Gogzhuè would not be pleased.”

Lango remained silent, except for the clinking of his necklace chains around his fingers.

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