wasn’t bleeding. Not like her shoulder, which had reopened in the fight. She pressed some paper towels against it, hoping it would soon clot again.
She turned the black sweatshirt inside out to hide the blood spatters, wishing she had something else to change into. But it would have to do. She shuddered as she pulled it over her head.
She worked at a few stains on her pants, but her lower half had escaped the worst of the mess, being blocked by Eric’s body when it had happened.
Her shoes were clean.
She closed her eyes, shivering. It was time to move on.
The man just leaving The Burger Palace when she exited the bathroom headed toward a truck in the back lot.
Casey followed him. “Hey, buddy. Okay if I grab a lift for a while?”
He turned, his eyes raking over her wet hair, her swollen lip, and her inside-out shirt. He shrugged. “Why not? I could use some company this morning. Wake me up a bit.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Any bags?”
Casey’s breath caught, and she forced a smile. “Nope. Just me.”
“No problem. I need to check something in the back, and I’ll be ready to go.” He loped toward the rear of the truck.
Casey walked around the front of the cab, hesitating at the passenger door.
“So where are you going now?”
Casey shook her head. “Where do you think I should go?”
Death shrugged. “Somewhere interesting.”
Casey took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly. “Things have been pretty interesting for the last ten hours or so. Where have you been?”
Death gave a small, sad smile. “I’ve been right beside you, Casey.”
Casey blinked. “But I haven’t seen you.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Casey took a breath that was half a sob. She closed her eyes and pressed on them with her thumb and forefinger. “I’m so tired.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Opening her eyes, Casey looked back in the direction of town.
“They’ll be all right,” Death said.
“Who?”
“Eric. Lillian and Rosemary. The town. They’ll be all right without you. You’ve done what you could.”
Casey looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. Pinks and reds and oranges, heralding the sun. Her bones ached. Her lip throbbed. Her shoulder wound would probably soon leak through her shirt.
She opened the truck door and looked up into the interior. The driver had returned, and was belting himself in. Still plenty of room. Enough for three.
“So,” she said to Death, waving a hand at the cab. “Are you coming, or not?”
In the blink of an eye, Death was perched in the middle of the seat. The trucker didn’t flinch.
Casey stepped up onto the running board and into the cab. She shut the door. Closed her eyes. Leaned back against the headrest.
“Where you off to?” the trucker said.
But Casey was already asleep.
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