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eached for two of them. He brought them to the register and put
money on the counter.
“I’ll pay after I fill ’em,” he said.
Outside, he pumped the gas into the can, watching the numbers
roll past. He filled the second and went back inside. Roger was
staring at him, hesitating to make change.
“That’s a lot of gas to carry.”
“Erin needs it.”
“Who’s Erin?”
Kevin blinked. “Can I buy the damn gas or not?”
“You sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I’ve been sick,” Kevin muttered. “Puking all day.”
He wasn’t sure whether Roger believed him, but after a moment,
Roger took the money and made change. Kevin had left the cans
near the gas pumps and went to pick them up. It was like lifting
cans of lead. He strained, his stomach churning, pulsating pain
between his ears. He started up the road, leaving behind the lights
of the store.
In the darkness, he set the cans down in the tall grass just off the
road. After that, he circled back behind the store. Waiting for
Roger to close up, waiting for the lights to go out. Waiting for
everyone to fall asleep upstairs. He retrieved another bottle of
vodka from the car and took a sip.
In Wilmington, Alex began to perk up, knowing he was getting
close. It wouldn’t be long now, maybe half an hour before he
reached Southport. It would take another few minutes to drop off
Joyce and her daughter, but then he would be home.