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Page 48
roadkill, she shoved the gearshift back into park then climbed out and walked around the car. On the back bumper was some blood and a few wiry gray hairs, but the parking lot was deserted.

"This is too cute," Cyrus remarked. "Every street is named after a different dinosaur."
"I think you missed the turn." Kyna flipped back a few pages in the auto club map booklet.
"Yeah, I think you're right."
Cyrus stopped at a service station to ask directions to the national park, which, as it turned out, straddled the Colorado-Utah border. And then he turned around and took US-40 back into Utah and found the turnoff just outside Vernal. After driving for another half hour they reached the park.
"Okay," Kyna exclaimed as she climbed out of the car, "let's act like tourists."
They strolled through the building that the National Parks Service had erected over a partially excavated fossil site and Kyna took photographs of a bunch of dusty dinosaur bones still half submerged in the side of a red dirt hill. One or two of the fossils looked big enough to have been King Kong's femurs. Kyna took a close-up of a set of fossilized footprints from a two-legged lizard that had been compost long before Homo erectus ever got his first campfire going. In all, the tour took about an hour.
"What now?" Cyrus asked.
Kyna examined the Park Service map they had picked up in the building. "There's a nature trail about five miles down the road. According to the map, there are some Indian ruins and petroglyphs."
Cyrus had often admired the turquoise and silver on her wrists and asked, "You're really into Indian stuff, aren't you?"
The look she gave him could freeze air. "So?"
"Jesus! Lighten up, will you? You don't have to be a bitch every day."

 
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