For the Dead Travel Fast

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They had cruised three different rest stops before they found one which was deserted enough to chance it. In the end, it was Castle who pulled the trigger. "I'm sorry but I have to use the bathroom badly," he said as he pulled crookedly into a spot near the walkway.

"It's fine, just don't go too far out of my sight," she said, checking her weapon in its holster. "I'm following you into the men's."

"Kate," he gasped.

"Don't even. You'd never make it on your own, no matter how strong and 'young' you think you feel."

He grumbled, but he didn't counter her argument. They opened their doors at the same time and hopped out; she heard him lock the Porsche with the fob. He reached back and gripped her elbow—so out of character that it sucked the breath from her in panic—but he was only bringing her ahead of him, pushing her up the path. "You have the gun," he husked at her ear as she took lead. "Your eyes are better in all this infernal light. And you've drunk most recently. I'm trying not to be totally stupid."

She was blinking back tears, silly with gratitude, but she hurried forward, taking point up the sidewalk to the large central building which housed the bathrooms. The front was all glass doors, and the angle of the morning sun made a glare so sharp that it bounced back into their eyes.

She paused, stepped sideways; Castle stopped behind her and waited. She put her hand behind her at the small of her back where the holster was snug, but there had only been one other car in the parking lot, and she saw no movement past the glare.

"Your three," Castle said softly.

Now she saw a man in the glass-enclosed vending area, dithering over a Pepsi machine. Scratching his neck, peering at his change in hand, looking back at the machine.

Kate huffed.

She couldn't treat a rest stop like she was serving a felony arrest warrant on a known member of a drug cartel. This was Nebraska for God's sake. She hustled the rest of the walk up to the building and, to her relief, spotted an outdoor entrance to the men's restroom. "This way, left," she said, heading for the metal door with its L-shaped wind break mounted into the sidewalk. She was grateful it had their backs, even though the guy in the vending area was no threat.

She paused at the door; Castle nodded and grasped the door knob, waited a heartbeat for her to get set with her weapon drawn, and then yanked it open.

She spilled inside fast, weapon pointed to the ground, cleared the men's room with the ripe scent of urine and unwashed male bodies assaulting her senses.

Urinals, five, against one wall. A wall of trough sinks. Two stalls. The urine was stained into the tile, she figured.

Castle cursed behind her, made a retching noise that she thought was melodrama—until she turned and looked at him. His face was blanched, he'd lost color in his lips, both hands on his knees as if he might actually heave. His body made a violent motion as he gagged.

"Castle," she snapped.

He wavered, straightened, put the back of his hand to his nose. "It's too… it's too much."

"It's not ideal, no, but—"

"I can't." He turned abruptly, but instead of going outside, he stalked the length of the men's room and went for the interior door.

Kate called sharply but he was moving fast; she had to jog to catch up to him, and he was already in the rest area lobby before she could make him stop. He was taking great gulping breaths in the foyer, sunlight spilling around him, one hand up to shield his eyes even with the sunglasses on his face.

A map of Nebraska hung over the welcome desk, but the place was deserted.

"Castle," she husked.

"I can't do it. The smell is—" He bit off the rest of it sharply, turned his cheek. "It's like it crawls inside me."

She didn't question it. Simply plucked the sleeve of his t-shirt and pulled him after her towards the women's rest room. She was gambling on that solo car out there belonging to the guy in the vending area, and not waiting on his mother or wife to finish up in the bathroom.

She gambled wrong.

Kate abruptly stopped and Castle stumbled in behind her, catching her by the hips in order not to trip. The woman before the bathroom sink dropped her jaw, and then flushed bright pink, her cornfed blonde good looks no match for the way stark disgust twisted her face. She looked like she was about to say something scathing.

But right that moment, Castle bumped into her rather ridiculously, clutching at her as if she were a life preserver. "Why'd you stop?" he said.

She turned, astonished by his density, when she realized he'd angled his head to the side and given himself a blankness to his face that was really playing it well.

"Someone is—"

"Oh," the woman gasped.

"Ah," Castle interrupted, turning his face just off from where he knew the woman was. "Sorry for this. Don't worry! Your dignity is intact. I can't see a thing. Injury. Still learning my way, so you'll forgive us if my wife leads me around."

"Castle," she hissed, appalled at how this farce skirted a dark terror she hadn't known existed. For something to happen to him. For his life to be so very altered by an injury she—

"Oh, of course," the woman gushed. It held a note of weird lushness, as if she were acting. "I'm so sorry."

"What for? You didn't do it to me," Castle said blithely, enjoying this far too much.

Kate growled a warning at him under her breath as the woman blushed bright pink, and she roughly angled Castle for a stall and shoved him towards it. "You know what to do."

She put her back to the door and stood guard, forced into this position by his stupid—albeit clever—story, in case he 'needed her help' in there. She had already dismissed the woman as nothing more threatening than bigoted when she realized she was still in the bathroom with them.

The woman was drying her hands slowly with a paper towel, but the blush on her face hadn't faded. Cornfed good looks resumed their natural place, smoothing out her forehead, dimpling her cheeks, beaming in those white-blue eyes. And after a minute, when they both could hear Castle relieving himself, Kate realized this wasn't at all normal.

The woman gave her a slow, heavy-lidded look, calculating, and Kate pulled her weapon with a snap of attention.

The woman smirked. "Clever, your boy. The sunlight blinded him, did it?"

Her heart pounded crazily in her chest. She didn't know if Castle could hear this, but she shoved her back against the door to prevent him from walking out. Her gun was ready, and the woman did eye it appreciatively.

"I suppose the smell next door put him off. Or you? It's very hard to tell which of you is the recent transition. You both smell so delightful."

"Move," Kate rasped. "Now."

"Kate?" from behind the door.

"Stay inside," she barked at him. "You. Get out."

"Sure, sure," the woman smiled. "Bad luck, huh? The one place you thought to stop…"

"I said fucking move."

The woman put up both hands, a paper towel wadded in one fist, a little shiver of pleasure down her spine as she did. "I'm going. Nothing to fear from me, but I can sense you won't believe. Better get yourselves to Great Salt Lake, sweetmeat, you smell like an orgy."

Kate had just taken her finger off the trigger guard—damn it all—when the woman disappeared, moving so swiftly and with such grace that the movement itself threw Kate for a loop. At her back, Castle rattled the door lock, pushing on her resistance.

"Sorry," she rasped, stepping just to one side, releasing him.

Castle grunted and opened the door. "What was that?" he growled. "What did she say to you?"

"She's a vampire," Kate croaked. "I… she knew where we were headed."

"So did Dr Harris, remember? And Deputy Dave was the one to bring it up. Hey, how many vampires are there?" he yelped.

She shook her head, still staring at the door where the woman had left.

Castle poked her. "Well, I mean, makes you wonder, right? But. Don't you need to use the bathroom? I get the idea we shouldn't make too many more pit stops after this."

—-xxx—-