​     The fourth person, a young, thin, darker skinned man​ wearing the kind of opaque glasses that only the blind wore, sat in another one of the seats in the back. This guy was immaculately groomed. Skin scrubbed. Jeans pressed. T-shirt ironed. Not a hair out of place. 

     "What is that ungodly smell?" he asked.

​     "Uh, that would probably be me," Adam replied. "I just a spent a year reforming, then digging my way out of twenty feet of solidly packed earth. That smell's part of the result."

​     "And a bath wouldn't..."

     "I could stand under a shower twenty-four-seven, and it wouldn't make a bit of difference. Did someone just say something about food?" 

     "What do you look like?" the blind man asked. "I mean, after going through what you just described?"

     "You don't want to know."

​     "In point of fact, I do. As you may have observed, I cannot see." To his other friends in the car, he said, "What does he look like? Someone describe him to me."

​     "We can't," the little person in front replied. "He's invisible. They all are."

​     "I'm thinking we could pull up to a drive-in," Adam said. "Tacos anyone? KFC?" 

     "KFC's too expensive anymore," the blind guy said. 

     "Money's not a problem," Gramps said. "We've got plenty of money."

     "You got money out of the Azure?" the guy in the wheelchair asked. "I would have thought that was impossible."

     "Don't worry about the money," Adam said. 

     "You should make yourselves visible. This is all too weird as it is."

​     "First mission?" Adam asked.

     The blind man chuckled low in the throat.

​     "I don't want to give your friends nightmares," Adam said. "The sight of me right now would burn in their memories forever."

​     "The more we know, the more we'll be prepared for what's coming."

     "I understand your concern, and it's justified, but I'm not turning visible again until I absolutely have to." 

     "Hi," Gramps said. He turned visible. He squatted near the rear of the van.

​     "Hi," Trevor said. He leaned against the locked side door. 

     "I'm thinking burgers," the woman who sat in the front seat who wasn't the driver said. "I'm thinking Scottish food. Who's with me?" 

     Trevor said, "Scottish food? Where would we go to..."

     "It's a joke. She means McDonald's."

     "McDonald's. I hate McDonald's, and you all know it," the guy in the wheelchair said. "It's like eating burnt, beef flavored oatmeal."

     "My name's Gramps," Gramps said. "Everyone but my daughter calls me Gramps. We all need to know each other's names, okay? We'll start to my right here." He pointed to the guy in the wheelchair. "And your name is...?"

     "Brock." 

​     "Trevor," Trevor said.

     The blind guy. "Noel."  

​     The ugly woman in the passenger's seat up front said, "My name's Estelle." She pointed at the driver. "Her name's Shawnacy, but we call her Nacy."

     "You call her Nacy," Noel said. "I call her Shawnacy. That is her name."

     "Nacy doesn't talk," Estelle said.

     "Never?" Trevor asked.

​     "I've never heard her."

​     She was a cute one, though. She had a cute face with a cute little pug nose, like TV commercial cute. She just seemed to have this aura about her, this charisma. Trevor couldn't take his eyes off her.

     "Okay, I'm thinking Burger King," Estelle said. "I mean, come on, they're royalty. They're the King of Burgers."

​     "They're cardboard-snot burgers, too," Noel, the blind guy, said. "They all are. No fast food burgers are worth a damn anymore."

​     "It's fast food. They're not supposed to be worth a damn. Come on, Noel. We need to eat. Look, there's a Freeburgers. That's enough meat for anybody."

     "Crap for lunch it is, then," Noel said. 

CONTINUE