By two in the morning, the five-coach convoy of *Vagrant Echoes* was rumbling southward along Interstate 5, climbing into the misty, forested mountain passes of southern Oregon toward Northern California. Outside, a heavy fog drifted between towering Douglas firs, shrouding the winding mountain highway in ghostly white tendrils. Inside the rear lounge of Bus One, the heavy velvet privacy curtains were drawn tight against the night. The only illumination came…
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