Twitch followed right behind Jim, in her horse shape, with the boy Rafi slung over her back. Adrian walked next to her, holding the kid in place. He patted Mike on the shoulder as he passed. “Good to have a rhythm section again,” he said.
Eddie brought up the rear. “Can you drive?” he asked.
Mike nodded. “I’ve been a driver before.”
“Cab, or limo?”
Mike sighed. “Getaway car, mostly,” he admitted.
“Perfect,” Eddie laughed.
“I had a rough youth.”
“Everybody does. Let’s go get the instruments and hit the road, before Fido here remembers that daddy sent it to fetch Jim.”
Mike scratched his head and they both walked out of the kiva. A fresh, water-bearing breeze blew into the overhang from the canyon below, and Mike breathed deep. “Aren’t they burnt to cinders?” he asked.
“All the band gear is fireproof and impact-resistant,” Eddie told him.
“Wards of instrument insurance?”
Eddie chuckled. “Something like that. Your bass is probably gone, but we have another one you can use.”
“I saw it in the van,” Mike remembered. “I’ll try not to impale myself on it.”
“That’d be good,” Eddie agreed. “That’d be a real good start.”
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