It's June 1972, and the Vietnam War overshadows Ed Sorenson's life. He's barely out of high school, and there's nothing ahead of him except war and death. On a whim, he packs up his old station wagon with California in mind. He invites his friend Sammy to join him on his journey, never expecting the other man to jump at the chance.<br><br>The station wagon barely makes it as far as Nevada. It dies on the shoulder during a freak summer thunderstorm, trapping the two young men and giving them no choice but to face the secrets they've been hiding, the fears they've been harboring, and the desire they can barely keep at bay.

A Busted Afternoon

He didn’t have a hard time imagining Ed in any situation. Which was part of his problem.


“Fucking jerk. Fucking asshole. Who the fuck does he think he is?”


Sammy started to walk faster as he spoke, until he was moving at a brisk jog, his feet splashing through deepening puddles and sending tiny droplets of water flying every direction. Not that they made a big difference in the rain. Lightning danced around him, splitting the sky into ragged pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle barely held together. The air buzzed with electricity, making his arms and the back of his neck itch. Thunder boomed again and again, until all the sound rolled together and there wasn’t a moment of silence. Nothing was still. Sammy could barely hear himself, or the litany of curses falling from his mouth.


That was why he reacted on instinct when he felt a sudden hand on his right shoulder. He swung with his left fist, his knuckles connecting with the soft skin at the corner of Ed’s mouth.


Chapter 7