"Turn your headlights on."

It was turning out to be one of those journeys. The road trip had been his idea, a chance for the kids to see Road America. Instead, his road trip had descended into all road trips. He and Jenny bickered. His kids, Kevin and Tracy, bitched and fought. Road maps bore no relation to the roads they drove on. And construction littered every town. If anything in life could be relied upon, besides death and taxes, it was construction in an unknown town. No wonder everybody flew.

"Does it look like I need headlights?"

"Dad, Kevin hit me."

"Kevin, don't hit your sister or I'll come back there and hit you."

"Well, the sign wouldn't be there for no reason."

The sign requested HEADLIGHTS ARE TO REMAIN ON AT ALL TIMES FOR THE NEXT 12 MILES. Which would have made sense if they had been on a winding mountain road. But they weren't. Rob's Dodge Caravan was cutting a swath through the Napa Valley and the road ahead was dead straight, narrowing to a singularity on the horizon. There wasn't a turnoff for miles. Grapes fattening on the vine provided the only danger. Smart cookies at Caltrans, he thought unkindly.

"I need a bathroom," Kevin chimed in.

"Me too," Tracy added.

"I don't need the lights on."

"Marvelous, just gamble with our lives."

"Christ, Jen."

She cast him her mother's frown-sneer combo.

"I'm not draining the battery for no reason."

"I really need a pee, dad."

Yeah, and I need a drink, he thought. "Right, you two tie a knot in it and I'll stop at the next town. Jen, I'll turn the lights on if something comes in the other direction. Okay?"

No one responded.

"Good."

Arguments over, he cranked up the speed. The quicker he was through the ludicrously controlled road the better. The speedometer reported an illegal seventy-two.

The Dodge crested a rise causing everyone to experience temporary weightlessness. Kevin giggled and Rob received another mother-in-law look from Jenny.

Just before she screamed.

The truck was there, reversing out from the vineyard. Like the Titanic discovering its iceberg, there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Too fast and too close, the minivan slammed the truck's rear-quarter.

The truck took the impact admirably, unlike the Caravan and Rob's family. The Dodge deflated, popped like a balloon. The hood crumpled and the windshield exploded, showering the cabin with glass. Airbags appeared in a blink of an eye before evaporating just as quickly.