The tour bus rumbled across the high plains, miles and miles of flat highway and fields of tall corn plants that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"How big is this state?" Jax wondered aloud.
"This is the most notoriously boring state to drive through," Zoey told him. "According to the internet."
"Tell me about it," said their driver.
The tour bus was a mess of tangled cords and half-eaten pizza, with thundering guitar riffs bouncing off the walls. Jax sat near the back lounge, a notebook open on his lap, lyrics scrawled in sharp, angular script. Murphy stirred under his skin, calm, but alert.
Merrick was passed out with drumsticks still clutched in both hands. Lily tapped out melodies on a portable keyboard with earbuds in, eyes closed. Zoey lay sprawled across the cushions with a horror novel covering her face, muttering lyrics in her sleep.
What made it even more amazing was their travel companions.
