Chapter 17

“Then she must have had the hots for you,” Dave suggested.

“I’m not her type. I think for myself and I’m a little too butch for her taste.”

“Well, she saw something in you or you’d be dead by now.”

“Now you tell me.”

Right as the route veered north at Hancock and signs said “PA 13 miles,” Dave steered the car off the highway onto Route 522 south. They crossed the Potomac River and drove almost twenty miles. Signs said “Welcome to West Virginia.”

“You’re officially breaking your parole,” he said, grinning at Cam. “We are now outside Maryland.”

After a couple miles, he turned onto a smaller road. “Some of the roads around here are pretty treacherous. If you make a wrong turn you could be in a ditch before you know it.”

“That wouldn’t be good.”

“No,” Dave said. “The troopers from both Maryland and West Virginia refuse to patrol these roads. One wrong move and you’d be shot to death and no one would ever find your body.”