Four hours had gone by in the drive up the coast before she had to stop for gasoline.
“Don’t be long, all right?” He asked, holding onto her hand as his voice contained the melancholy music of pleading.
“Come with me, then.” She smiled to reassure him, praying that he did not see the desperation that set in at the aspect of five minutes of being apart.
“I have to guard it,” he answered.
She sighed. “Right.” She turned around, looked at the gas station and faced him again. “I’ll be right back.”
After the brief stop, they were once again headed north. She was shaking.
“You ok?” He placed his hand on top of hers.
“I will be,” she said. “Once we get someone to look at your injuries.”
To be continued