The Carlsbad Caverns parking lot was already jammed with people when the boys arrived, even though it was barely eight. Kyle rented audio tour headsets for the three of them, and they descended into the cave's gaping entrance.

Nelson thought the stalactites, stalagmites, and curtain formations were cool, especialy with the lighting effects, but after having to circle around the milionth two-ton tourist waddling in front of him, he started getting crazy-impatient.

Kyle didn't help matters any, pausing to listen at every audio stop.

"I'l meet you guys at the cafeteria," Nelson said, hurrying on ahead.

The lunchroom at the bottom of the cave was equaly crowded with kids and screaming parents. Nelson had to wait nearly twenty minutes for a Coke. Then he wandered around the gift shop, keeping a lookout for Kyle and Jason.

After a while, he decided he'd better backtrack up the cave trail. But it was too hard walking against the constant stream of people. Then when he turned back, none of the rock formations looked familiar. Had he even come this way?

After twisting down one trail and turning up another, he found his way back to the cafeteria and gift shop, but found no sign of his friends. He started sweating, unsure of what to do.

He decided to stay put in the lunchroom, wondering what could've happened to Kyle and Jason. And he was dying for a cigarette. After half hour, he decided he'd better go back to the car. But a crowd packed the waiting area for the elevators. Only after waiting another half hour did he finaly reach daylight.

Unfortunately he couldn't remember where they'd parked. He walked down one broiling lane of the parking lot after another, til he finaly heard Kyle shout, "Nelson!"

He and Jason were sitting in the car, doors and windows open, frowning and sweating.

"Where've you been?" Kyle demanded. "We've been waiting over an hour here, roasting!"

"I was looking for you," Nelson said feebly. "Why didn't you turn the AC on?"

"We did!" Jason started the engine. "For half an hour. You can't leave the car idling like that forever."

"I guess we missed each other," Nelson said, climbing in. He felt bad for having made them wait, especialy since he'd been having a miserable time himself. "I'm sorry," he told Kyle. "So did you like the caverns?"

"Yeah," Kyle replied. "I wish I'd known I could've taken another hour."

Nelson slouched down in the seat, deciding he'd better just keep his mouth shut. But he couldn't.

"Have you guys noticed I haven't had a cigarette al day? I decided to quit."

"Great," Jason said. But Kyle merely stared out the window as the car headed downhil along the narrow, winding road.

That despondent zombie look on his face worried Nelson. Kyle usualy wasn't that morose.

chapter 28.

Ever since Kyle had written a report on caves in third grade, he'd dreamed of one day descending the steep, dark, musty trail into Carlsbad. Al his books considered them the most spectacular caverns on Earth. But his dream hadn't included feeling totaly annoyed with his boyfriend and being blood-boiling pissed at his best friend.

Kyle stil hadn't gotten over Jason letting that girl kiss him; it upset him that Jason had posed the question about breaking up; and it troubled him how Jason's temper so easily flared up at that little boy's dad.

In addition to al that, it infuriated Kyle how Nelson had so carelessly tried to test how fast he could speed down the interstate; how he'd stopped and totaly-out-of-line danced naked in the desert; not to mention how he'd caked a mud mask on the face of some little boy he didn't even know; and on top of everything else, how he'd gotten lost in the caverns, worrying Kyle like crazy.

Had both Jason and Nelson gone bonkers? The two of them were acting completely out of control. And Kyle didn't have a clue as to what to do about it. Instead, he simply gazed out the window at mile after mile of cactus, sand, and black rock mountains, while he shifted across the backseat to avoid the scorching sun.

"Can we stop to eat?" Nelson asked as they reached White's City, a fakey old-time Western town and water park.

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "I'm hungry."

"Whatever," Kyle told them.

Over lunch in a booth, Jason-for the first time al trip-asked to see the map. "Where are we going next?" Kyle pointed to the route they'd originaly agreed on: south to I-10, west through El Paso and Tucson, then north to Phoenix and the Grand Canyon.

"Hmm." Jason studied the map. "Hey, isn't Roswel where that UFO crashed?"

"Oh my God!" Nelson leaned over his shoulder, screaming. "We've got to go there!" Kyle stared across the table at the two of them. "Like, you think you're actualy going to see aliens? That's not the route we planned. It'l take us totaly out of our way."

"No, it won't," Jason said. "We'l just go north here instead of there."

"Jason, no!" Kyle crossed his arms in frustration. Why did Jason suddenly want to switch tracks on him?

"Guys, wait!" Nelson spread his arms between them. "At times like these, I believe we should ask ourselves, 'What would Jesus do?' I think He'd definitely want to see aliens."

"Come on, Kyle." Jason's commanding eyes gazed across the table at him. "We saw the caverns like you wanted. Now this is our chance to see Roswel." Kyle pushed his plate away, no longer hungry, and slumped against the seat. "Fine!" As he suspected, there wasn't much to see in Roswel except "alien" souvenir shops and a free UFO museum that Jason and Nelson insisted they go to.

"It's probably free because no one would pay for it," Kyle grumbled.

An alien mannequin greeted them at the door. Beyond that, the exhibits were mostly newspaper articles with blurry photos of supposed UFOs. The museum wasn't totaly lame, but it wasn't the civil rights museum either.

"I need five bucks," Jason told Kyle at the gift shop. In his hand he held an alien dol. "I want to get it for my sister."

"Five bucks?" Kyle inspected the cheaply stitched dol. "For this? We're short of money, you know?"

"Yeah, but I know she'l like it." He gave Kyle a stern look. "You know, maybe it's not a good idea for me to have to ask you for money al the time."

"Oh, yeah?" Kyle dug into his pocket, yanking out the envelope of money. "This was your idea in the first place. I never wanted to do it." He shoved the entire wad into Jason's hand and walked out.

"Let's see how long the money lasts now," he muttered to himself. He wished he'd never agreed to hold the money for Jason. And he stil felt like a dope for losing his walet.

While he leaned against the car waiting, Kyle noticed again the windshield crack made by the flying pebble. He leaned over to run his finger across the glass. Had the break gotten bigger? Like a widening spider web, the dime-size chink now spiked out to the size of a half-dolar.

Behind Kyle, Nelson's snapping fingers and Jason's laughter sounded. He turned to see them joking and cutting up, each carrying a bag stuffed with UFO souvenirs.

"Does the crack look bigger to you?" Kyle asked them.

A sily grin crept across Jason's face. "Whose crack?"

At that Nelson doubled over, hee-hawing. "Yeah, turn around, Kyle. Let's see!"

He and Jason high-fived each other like it was the funniest joke ever.

Kyle stared in dismay at these two cackling aliens. How had this road trip mutated the boy he loved and his best friend into the gay Beavis and Butthead?

The two of them kept giggling about anal probes as they headed west on US 70 toward Picacho, until Kyle announced, "We need gas." He'd made a point of keeping an eye on the gas gauge ever since the Tennessee incident.

Nelson puled into the next station. At one of the pump islands, a red pickup truck stood parked. A guy wearing a black cowboy hat waited in the driver's seat. A younger man in a wifebeater tank top, boots, and jeans pumped the gas.

"Yum!" Nelson smacked his lips, staring at the gas-pump guy. "He's hot!"

He was definitely buff, Kyle thought, but as they got closer, the steely look in the guy's gray eyes sent a chil down Kyle's spine. "Why don't you go over to the other island?"

"I want to get a better look." Nelson grinned, puling up directly across from the truck. "Can one of you squeegee while I pump?"

"You stay here," Kyle told him. "Jason and I wil do it."

"Kyle, what's your problem?" Nelson flung his door open. "May I at least have a hal pass to pee?" Without waiting for a reply, he slammed the door and strode into the station, fluffing his pink hair.

Jason wiped the windshield while Kyle pumped. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the creepy gas-pump guy chewing tobacco. He had never actualy seen somebody spit tobacco. A gooey brown stain landed on the concrete beside Kyle.

"I think you're right!" Jason's voice carried from the windshield. "The crack is getting bigger." As Kyle lifted his gaze from the pump handle, he watched the creep's gray eyes shift from Jason to the windshield, to the FAGGS scratched into the door, and then to the rear bumper, no doubt spying the rainbow flag. Hopefuly, he didn't know what it meant.

Kyle also spotted a sticker on the truck: TERRORIST HUNTER'S PERMIT-WE NEVER FORGET.

Out of nervousness Kyle offered the creep a tight, polite smile. "How's it going?" In response, Creepy Eyes silently nodded, his clenched jaw slowly grinding the tobacco in his cheeks.

Fortunately, the gas tank finaly filed. Jason climbed into the passenger seat. Kyle returned the hose. And Nelson shuffled out of the gas station in his sandals. "The men's room was too nasty," he announced, no doubt aware that the creeps with the pickup could hear him. "So I used the ladies'." Kyle quickly replaced the gas cap as the creep spoke for the first time: "Hey, Pinky!" he yeled to Nelson. "What's that rainbow flag mean?"

"Diversity!" Kyle intervened, trying to keep Nelson's mouth shut. "It stands for diversity." But Nelson gave the buff creep a broad smile, wink, and wave. "It means we're queer, butch." The creep stared back expressionless as Kyle leaped into the car and yanked Nelson in after him. "Are you insane? Let's go!"

"What did he do now?" Jason asked.

"Wasn't he so frickin' hot?" Nelson exclaimed, puling out of the station.

Kyle glanced out the window, watching the creep climb into the pickup and talk to the black-hatted driver. "He told the guys back there we're queer." Jason turned to Nelson. "What did you do that for?"

"Because we are." Nelson opened the CD compartment and asked Jason, "Hey, can you find that song, 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy'?"

"They're folowing us," Kyle announced.

The pickup had U-turned out of the gas station onto the highway behind them, as Kyle's heart slid into his stomach.

"So what?" Nelson gazed into the rearview. "What do you think they'l do, drive us off the road?"

"They're gaining on us," Kyle said as the truck began speeding up behind them.

Jason looked back out the rear window, then turned to Nelson. "That was realy stupid, you know."

"Can't you find the CD?" Nelson replied.

Kyle glanced ahead as the road began to curve and a sign read MOUNTAIN CORRIDOR-SPEEDING FINES DOUBLED.

"Slow down," he told Nelson as the pickup drew alongside. "Just let them pass."

But the truck didn't pass. While Black Hat kept pace beside the boys, Creepy Eyes leaned out the passenger side, gesturing at Nelson to rol down his window.

"Don't!" Jason ordered. "Don't rol it down."

"Would you queens calm down? You afraid they'l toss a grenade?"

"Just don't rol down your window!" Kyle shouted. His heart was beating a milion miles an hour.

"I won't." Nelson shook his head no at Creepy Guy.

In response the guy flipped the boys the finger, yeling something they couldn't hear. Nelson flipped him back.

"Dude!" Jason yanked Nelson's hand down. "Don't do that!"

Kyle leaned across the backseat toward Nelson. "Does the name Matthew Shepard mean anything to you?" The creepy guy reached for something inside the truck. Suddenly an open beer can flew out the window and through the air, bouncing onto the hood of the boys'

car. Bang-bang-bang! The can slammed into the windshield, spraying its golden contents before rattling over the roof. Kyle spun around to watch the can spring onto the pavement behind them.

"Crap!" Nelson shouted as beer streamed across the windshield. "Did he realy just do that?"

"The crack just got bigger." Jason leaned forward to examine the glass, now splintered to the size of a fist.

"Let them go on!" Kyle ordered as the truck puled ahead.

But as Nelson slowed the car, the truck swerved in front of them, causing Nelson to brake harder.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed. "They realy are trying to run us off the road."

"Pass them!" Jason shouted.

"No!" Kyle argued. "Just let them go."

"Gun it!" Jason shouted.

Another beer flew out from the truck, sailing through the air, and hit the windshield. Slam! The glass cracked wider.

"One more," Jason shouted, "and it's going to shatter. You'd better floor it!" Nelson swerved into the passing lane but the truck swung out to block them.

"Crap!" Nelson shouted. "They won't let me."

"Turn around!" Kyle yeled.

"Swing around to the right," Jason ordered.

Nelson yanked the wheel to the right, bouncing onto the shoulder, barely missing the truck.