“But there’s nowhere else to go,” Noah finishes for me, and then extends a hand. “Let’s go. We have about three hours until daylight. Hopefully, we can make it… somewhere.”
I nod, taking his help and letting him help me to my feet. “Are you sure you got everything out of the car?”
“Everything that we take,” he says, his tone final.
And I let it go. I don’t want to question him. It’s not going to do any good to argue. It takes way more effort than I’m willing to give right now.
Bullet tugs at the leash ahead of us, and I lean against Noah’s right side until I steady myself enough to walk without his assistance. I gaze upward, taking in the sky full of stars. Under normal circumstances, maybe this would be romantic.
But that would require Noah to love me.
And honestly, I’m not sure he does anymore.
I glance back at the Pathfinder, a wrecked mess of shadows, and what little confidence I had in our ability to navigate this mess dies right there with it.
21
NOAH
Two hours.It’s gotta be close to two hours of walking.
Rue whimpers as she walks, not having said more than two words since we started, and Bullet’s tiring faster than ever. This place is the polar opposite of Moccasin Cove, where he can tromp and chase rabbits and then rest until he’s recovered. He’s too old for this journey through the desert, and we’re too injured to carry him.
So, we slow down more. Rue stops to give him water. And I keep my head down every time a truck blares past at eighty miles per hour.
This is growing increasingly more frequent.
“Look,” Rue points as soon as the travel center comes into view, breathless. “We can probably stop there.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re probably about a mile out, but I don’t know what we do once we get there.” My voice is flat, mostly because Iknowof an answer, but it’s just as reckless as Rue’s idea to set the Pathfinder on fire.
“We could… Um…” Rue’s voice grows quiet, and I see the wheels turning in her head. “People hitchhike all the time… I could maybe find a phone, call my mom, and get a rental?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. If you were going to do that, you should’ve stayed at the SUV.”
“I don’t have a fucking phone, Noah,” she snaps at me. “You threw it out the window for no good reason.”
“It was impulsive, but I didn’t trust that we wouldn’t get ratted on,” I admit, raking a hand through my hair. My bad arm is aching horrifically beneath my hoodie, and the sweat has soaked through—but I can’t take it off. I can’t risk someone seeing the bullet wound.
“We wouldn’t know at this point,” Rue says blankly. “There’s no way to check.”
“The travel center will have cameras,” I think aloud. “I need to stay away from it.”
“Every fucking truck that’s passed us has probably had dash cams,” Rue’s voice is sharp, and I’d like to blame her fatigue and concussion, but also…
Yeah, this is a very shitty predicament.
Though still admittedly better than prison.
“I’ll look at the hours of the travel center,” Rue says, as we gain another tenth of a mile. “I know there’s a truck stop up ahead, but we won’t make it before daylight. Sometimes I’ve seen cars parked at the travel center overnight. Maybe we could hitch a ride.”
“That’s risky.”
“Well, if I can’t rent something, then what else are we supposed to do?” She peers up at me, confusion etched in her face.
My silence is an answer.
Her jaw drops. “We’renotstealing a car. I’m not fucking thief.”
