"Name's Dino, I'm the local mechanic, and I have an auto shop not far from here." the man explained, surveying the diner with a judgmental scowl.

"I'm Oren and this is-" he began.

"Jackie Baker." she interrupted, shaking Dino's hand roughly. It was only then Oren noticed the sack Dino was gripping in his opposite hand, a familiar antenna poking out the top.

"Where'd you find that?" Oren asked, pointing toward the sack.

"Wreck down by the freeway," Dino answered. "Took what little parts seemed like they still had some use in 'em."

"The sedan," Oren murmured sadly.

"That was your car?" Dino said sternly. "Damn shame when a fine car like that gets wrecked."

The waitress came out from the empty, quiet kitchen carrying a brown bag dripping with grease. "Here ya go. The usual." she sighed, handing the bag to Dino.

"Thanks, Cassie," Dino said politely, tipping his baseball cap. "You ain't got a car?" he asked Oren, who shook his head. "And y'all walked all the way here?" he asked, this time looking at Jackie who nodded. "My truck's parked right outside, quick drive to the auto shop. Got a few old jalopies I was fixin'. Maybe we can work out some sorta deal to get y'all back on the road again."

"Really?" Oren asked excitedly, standing.

"Come on, I ain't got all day." Dino sighed, pushing open the front door.

Pulled over to the side of the road was a large, red truck. The trunk was filled with scrap, old car parts, and overflowing toolboxes. Dino pulled out a sandwich from the paper bag and finished it in three hardy bites. He climbed up into the truck offering up the seat next to him with a few solid pats. Oren stumbled up into the passenger seat, Jackie taking a seat in the back.

As the truck slowly pulled off the grass and onto the road, Oren's eyes were pulled back toward the diner. The diner. The diner with the big parking lot, packed with cars. The diner with windows lit with gold and filled with the shadows of people. People who were not sitting or eating or chatting. People who were simply gathered by the windows, and watching as they left.

Oren shivered, turned back around, and kept his eyes glued on the windshield.

. . .

They drove down the long road at a slow but steady pace, passing old barns and small farmhouses. The air reeked of overturned earth and manure.

"So you're a mechanic?" Oren attempted to make small talk.

"I'm a...revivor." Dino corrected gently. "I take things that aren't good to nobody and I make em' useful again."

A herd of cows passed them by, housed within a large, white picket fence. They flicked their tails happily and grazed upon the grass, a few even greeting them as they passed by with a deep, bellowed "moo". Oren felt a tinge of guilt, wondering exactly where the diner had gotten the meat of their burgers.

"Where are we? I've never been outside of the city before." Oren asked.

"You really aren't from 'round here are ya'?" Dino murmured. "This place ain't got no name, kid."

"W-What?" Oren chuckled weakly, hoping it was a joke.

"Autoshop's just up ahead," Dino said, ignoring him, telling Oren it had not been a joke.

Almost as if by the mention of its name, the auto shop appeared. Like the diner, it was surrounded by grass and thicket, planted at the side of the road. Amongst the tall grass was a series of ancient gas pumps.

The shop was low and long, two-for-one flyers clinging to the smudged windows desperately. At the side of the auto shop was a rusted jeep with the wheels removed, half-submerged in the earth. Dino parked the truck and crawled out, motioning for them to follow him inside. The inside of the shop was humid, the air thick with the scent of fermentation, of metal and paper and plastic, left baking in the sun too long.

Pushed against the walls were tall, cluttered shelves. Dino sat behind the counter at the back of the shop, pulling out a newspaper. Underneath one of the windows was a small display case with travel maps. Oren hurriedly grabbed one and unfolded it. It was like no other map he had ever seen. A pale, grey line running from the top to the bottom which Oren assumed was the road, and on either side was pure, solid black. There were no markers, compass, not even a name like Dino had said. Oren put the map back with a disappointed frown.

Jackie was more interested in what was next to the maps: snacks. The bags were unusually bright, neon colors, and labeled in a language she did not recognize, but she could tell the contents from the images on the front. She grabbed as many as her arms would let her carry and brought them up to the counter.

"How much ya' got?" Dino asked, counting the bags.

"Seven bucks," Oren answered, pulling the wad of cash from his pocket.

Jackie knelt, dug around in her boot, and pulled out a single quarter.

"Keep it." Dino sighed, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. "Listen, I got an old van in the backyard, you can take it and get where you need to go," he said, tossing Oren a pair of keys.

"Thanks, mister!" Jackie said excitedly, grabbing the bundle of snacks.

"Listen, kids," Dino began sternly, standing, his hands planted firmly on the countertop. "You gotta keep your wits about you out there, understand?"

"We will," Oren said nonchalantly, following Jackie out the door. Behind the auto shop was an old hippie jeep, long and cylindrical with a flower painted on the back doors. It was a pale yellow color that reminded Oren of his grandmother's wallpaper.

He slid into the driver's seat and turned the keys, the engine sputtering like a bad cough. "It must have an empty tank," he sighed, stepping back out. "I'll go see if Dino has a gas casket we can borrow-I doubt those old pumps even work," he explained to Jackie who gave him a supportive thumbs up.

He raced along the reeds back up to the auto shop's front door. As he stepped inside, he noticed Dino was no longer sitting behind the counter. A door he hadn't seen before had been left open ajar, light leaking through onto the tiled floor. Gently, he opened the door just enough to peek his head through. It led into a dim room with a metal table in its middle, a series of tools hanging off the wall. On the table, slumped against the wall was a young woman. Oren held back a scream, the noise rising up his throat only for him to force it back down again with a gulp of air.

Laying next to the woman was an arm-her arm, completely detached from her shoulder. The strange thing was that there was no blood, no bone, not even scared skin. Where there should have been an open, gushing wound were clumps of cotton, stitches sticking out from the rim of skin. Dino knelt next to her, threading a needle.

The girl raised her head weakly, their eyes meeting. Oren could tell, even from afar, her eyes were too cold to be real, glassy, and artificial. She reeled back, sending the sewing kit that had been next to her clattering to the ground, and screamed. The scream was strange, as if it had not come organically, like the noise a doll makes from its throat when you pull back on its string.

Dino spun around, shoved Oren backward, and slammed the door shut behind them. Oren wanted to run-he wanted to run and to never stop-but his legs had turned to trembling, melted mush, forcing him to clutch the counter to stay upright. Dino stared at him, not in anger, but something almost sheepish.

"W-What is she?" Oren asked breathlessly.

"I told you before." Dino sighed. "I revive things no one wants anymore."

"But people...you can't..." Oren struggled to push the words out.

"What did you need?" Dino asked.

"I-what?" Oren panted.

"You came in here for something, what was it?" Dino snapped impatiently.

"Gas...there was no gas in the car..." Oren explained. Dino lifted a hefty gas can from behind the counter and shoved it into Oren's hands. He held his grip on the gas can, even when Oren had gotten a grip on it, and stared down his trembling eyes.

"You have to get out of here, ok?" Dino said.

"We will. We'll leave you alone as soon as-" Oren stuttered.

"Not the store! I mean out of this place!" Dino snarled. "Being here...it does something to you after a long time."

"Then why do you stay?" Oren was surprised as the words slipped through his lips. Dino broke into a bittersweet smile, letting go of the gas can.

"Every town needs a mechanic," he said proudly.

Oren walked to the back of the auto shop, carrying the heavy gas can, spilling some of the warm, yellow liquid onto the dry grass. When Jackie had asked him what had taken so long, he shrugged, filling up the tank. As he turned the keys, the engine roared to life, and soon enough, they were back on the road.

. . .

Jackie leaned over the dash, pressing her face against the cool glass of the windshield. "When should we stop?"

"We can pull over once it gets dark-" Oren began.

"No, I mean, in general." Jackie sighed.

"I guess...until we feel like it?" Oren answered unsurely. "Maybe we'll end up in Mexico, on some tropical coast somewhere," he suggested with a laugh. Secretly, that was what he was hoping for, somewhere warm, somewhere secluded.

"Or in Antarctica, in an igloo," Jackie suggested. She was the type of person who could adapt to any environment she was put into, she only hoped it would be strange. She began to hum the song she had been singing earlier, tapping invisible drums with her fingers to stay on beat.

"Your dad taught you that one, right?" Oren asked upon recognizing the song. "What is he like?"

"He was...nice," Jackie answered quietly.

"Was?" Oren asked, turning toward her. Her face told him everything he needed to know. "Sorry," he said hurriedly, shrinking.

For the first time, Jackie felt embarrassed, she blushed and turned away at the sight of his sad expression. "It's not a big deal. Everybody dies. It just happened sooner to him."

After a moment of silence, Oren reached for the radio, turning the dial. He surfed through the channels, picking up different notes of static until he finally landed upon a song. A classical melody began to play, a violin solo. He stiffened, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. Jackie craned her head, looking at him. Tentatively, he reached for the dial and turned the radio off.