Deadline

“Isn’t that my decision to make?”

“No.”

She paused to catch her breath. As she did so, she noticed his determination not to look directly at her. “Your nightmares aren’t the reason, are they? That’s just another excuse. Like the loner thing.”

“Loner thing?”

“Headly said you—”

“Oh, Headly said. You’ve talked about me with Headly?”

“You’ve assumed a loner outlook, when actually it goes against your nature.”

“What the fuck? Headly’s an expert on my nature?”

“I think there’s something to what he said.”

“What makes you think so?”

“A vasectomy at twenty-two for one thing.”

“That has nothing to do with what we’re talking about.”

“It has everything to do with it.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not. If there weren’t some truth to what Headly said, you wouldn’t be shouting.”

Seething, he turned his back to her and switched from shouting to muttering.

“Where’s your story?”

He jerked himself back around to face her. “What?”

“Another excuse has been your heedless pursuit of a story. Nothing matters like the story. You’ll go to any lengths, take insane, life-threatening risks to get the story. So…” She gestured toward his sleeping laptop. “Where is it?”

“I haven’t written it yet.”

“Have you even started?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It hasn’t gelled. I haven’t decided on the direction I want to take it. Besides, the ending can’t be Jeremy dying alone in that cabin. The story won’t end until Carl is captured or killed.”

“That’s what you’re waiting on.”

“Exactly. That’s the only reason I’m still here.”

“Oh. You’ve hung around this long only to get the story.”

“That’s right.”

“Your involvement with me, the boys, only a means to an end?”

“The truth?”