The View From Who I Was (2014)
“—Viktor Schauberger Mr. Handler exited the highway and barreled down a ramp that led to nothing. Literally. Corpse couldn’t even see a road. Just endless Utah desert. Panic crept down her neck. She swallowed against how people at school would gossip about her leaving with Mr. Handler. DEAD GIRL SUCKS UP.
The ramp’s asphalt ended, and Mr. Handler’s Prius bounced onto dirt that hooked left, under the highway in a one-lane concrete tunnel. They burst into light at its far end, and still there ...was nothing but junipers, piñon pines, and sagebrush. Here and there a skiff of snow yawned in a tree’s shadow. On a sign faded from blue to mostly white, Corpse read through bullet holes the name Sego Ridge, and, beneath it, Pop. Sego Ridge’s population was just a shot-out hole.
Mr. Handler glanced at Corpse as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands and navigated the washboard road, veering around rocks like land mines. An open bag of pretzels skittered off the console and hit Corpse’s feet.MoreLess
The ramp’s asphalt ended, and Mr. Handler’s Prius bounced onto dirt that hooked left, under the highway in a one-lane concrete tunnel. They burst into light at its far end, and still there ...was nothing but junipers, piñon pines, and sagebrush. Here and there a skiff of snow yawned in a tree’s shadow. On a sign faded from blue to mostly white, Corpse read through bullet holes the name Sego Ridge, and, beneath it, Pop. Sego Ridge’s population was just a shot-out hole.
Mr. Handler glanced at Corpse as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands and navigated the washboard road, veering around rocks like land mines. An open bag of pretzels skittered off the console and hit Corpse’s feet.MoreLess
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