Amanda stared out the window of the white van, watching the passing landscape for any signs of life. They had been traveling for almost six hours, and yet the scenery never changed. It was just desert for miles around. She ran one hand through her messy red hair and turned to look at her husband, Sirius, who was driving the van.
“How much longer?” she asked.
The seats in the van had very little movement in them, and Sirius’s large frame was scrunched up tight over the steering wheel. He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his much smaller wife.
“Don’t know. We should be there soon.”
“Thank the Gods,” his sister Cat, complained loudly from the seat behind. “Doesn’t this piece of junk go any faster?” She had her boots pressed against the seat in front of her, and she longed to stretch her legs out.
“No,” Sirius replied gruffly, somehow managing to hunch himself over the steering wheel even more.
Cat’s ex, Zephyr, slouched lazily against the window in the seat next to her. “Well you’re welcome to find a faster vehicle that fits eight people.”
Cat gave him an indignant glare. “I’ve no doubt I could have, but I was, up until this morning, under the impression we were going to be taking more than one.”
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“They told us we had to take this one,” Amanda said absently. Her gaze remained fixed out the window. None of them were particularly in the mood to deal with Cat.
“Well it’s a piece of shit. I could’ve found something better in the junk heap out the back of my garage.”
“At an added expense no doubt,” a voice quipped from the back. It came from Falco, the team's resident marine. He'd been brought up to be polite, but always found Cat’s outbursts a little annoying.
“What do you care? You’ve got money to spare” Cat replied. “So does Coal who, might I remind you, is paying for all this.”
Either Falco knew better than try to bait Cat further or he just couldn’t think of a comeback. Whatever the reason he wisely kept his mouth shut. His wife Indi, forever the friendly optimist, spoke perkily from the seat next to him, as she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.
“At least this way you don’t have to worry about getting sand in the car. Plus,” she added more hesitantly, partly because it was less optimistic, but also because she cared for accuracy, “Technically, Coal’s just paying a lump sum. Not that I mind splurging for a bit more comfort...” She trailed off then as she took a second thoughtful look at the carpet-less, rickety, deafening, contraption they were currently all squeezed into.
Stuck in the middle of this back-and-forth was Wolf. Seventh member of the crew, and full-blooded werewolf. You'd never guess it if not for the name. Then again it wasn't a name most werewolves would have chosen. Without much enthusiasm he added, “Technically, we also still have to take good care of it.”
Cat sighed mildly exasperated. Nobody said anything more.
Kass, the slim, nicely dressed, strawberry-haired, eighth member of the gang, who Cat teasingly sometimes called ‘mouse’, kept her gaze fixed on their passing surroundings. She contributed nothing to the conversation, not even a glance. This was not unusual.