Waynesboro, Virginia Ronda Sandler was having trouble getting to sleep. The campground was simply too noisy. John had done most of the driving and, when he mentioned that he knew of a nice little camping area on Sherando Lake, she thought it was a good idea. He was positive that the campground was no more than twenty miles away. Ronda did not care where the place was located; she just wanted to get off the road and out of his truck. It was dangerously dark, and a heavy fog had moved in over the top of Afton Mountain-the route they had to take in order to cross over into Tennessee. Things had not changed; John refused to just duck off the road, get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning. In short, he was a male and to proud to stop and ask directions. Thus, they continued on.
The original plan was to travel through the night, switch drivers at every other rest area, and just keep moving until they were as far from Norfolk as possible. If John was right and Fox knew where she lived, it only made good sense not to be there when he showed up. That "original plan" though, lasted only until midnight. It had been a long day, for both of them.
Fortunately, John's memory was as stubborn as his personality. The Sherando Lake Campground was just where he said it was-give or take twenty or thirty miles.
Ronda would have preferred a Best Western. The noise was not the only thing that kept her awake. A pointed root continually stabbed her back, and even the plush sleeping bag could not cushion her slender body from the agony. To make matters worse, it was unusually warm for a mountain evening, and someone three sites down was having a hell of a little party. She shifted to her right and away from John, who slept like a baby, and propped herself up on one elbow. She bought the two-man dome tent a few years ago, but had never really used it. Now she knew why.
Their neighbors were getting louder by the minute. The orange glow from their campfire lit the inside of Ronda's tent so well that she could have read the newspaper. Unfortunately there was no one on duty to complain to, and she really did not feel like leaving the tent anyway. The best she could do was suck it up and try not to kill someone before morning. The party will break up soon, the optimistic little voice in her head told her. Her cynical side told her that she would be up all night.
