“Who knows?” He blows smoke through his nose. “Other than seeing an oncologist, what are you going to do after this?” She slings an arm over the back of Nadine’s chair and tilts her head up as she draws in a breath of her own. “Say that again when I’m holding your hand through chemo.” His bruises and cuts still ache though.Ĭhloe snorts. “You’re a goddamn lifesaver,” he groans through a drag. The lighter’s out before Chloe’s eyes are even back on the road. She grins and rifles through a compartment by the wheel, tossing him a box when she finds it. (It’s strange he feels like he hadn’t aged a day in prison as if someone had hit pause on his life and, simultaneously, feels like he’s aeons ahead of where he was before.)Ĭhloe looks over when he sighs contentedly. Respect and gratitude for simple pleasures: relaxing in the back of a car, aching from a good workout, peaceful quiet-the only thing missing is a cigarette. He can be as reckless as he was at nineteen, can still be a numbskull, but he has learned about respect and gratitude over the years. Not for the first time, Sam inhales a lungful of fresh air and feels weightless. The forest around them buzzes with life and the engine drones on.
In the driver’s seat, Chloe just hums a tune he doesn’t know and taps at the wheel. Nadine dozes off in the passenger’s seat, and Sam kicks his feet up onto door of the jeep and reclines into the other door, settling in for a long ride. Quickly, however, exhaustion catches up to them and conversation putters out. Spirits still high, they pile in eagerly.
It’s a ten-minute hunt for a working vehicle in the dark before they’re finally hitting the road. The way back to civilisation is long and rocky.
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