“Don’t stop, Prince Valiant. You’re my hero. Come on, don’t let me down now. Just a little more. Oh yeah. That’s the way. Nooo…crap.”
NoooChrissie Yates swung the wheel of Prince Valiant—her nickname for her not-so-trusty gold Pontiac—and coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the quiet mountain pass.
With a sigh, she turned off the sputtering engine. She and Prince Valiant had made it all the way from Arizona, across Canada by way of the Al-Can Highway, into Alaska and halfway down the Aurora Peninsula before her old car had decided it needed a break.
“Seriously, Prince? You couldn’t have broken down just a little closer to civilization?”
Not that there was much in the way of civilization in this stretch of wilderness between Anchorage and Lost Harbor. There was a general store, the Kni
