Chapter 45 #2
Marc gave me a tense smile before opening his door.
I did the same, then stepped into the chilly May evening.
Running my hand over my stomach, I inhaled the fresh mountain air as I looked around.
I was sore and stiff from being in the car for so long and wished I could take a few minutes to stretch my legs.
Since that was too risky, the short walk to the convenience store would have to suffice.
“See you in a couple minutes,” Marc called when I headed off.
I shot him a smile I hoped looked confident, and he paused in the middle of unscrewing the gas cap to return it. His was even less convincing than mine probably was because it was so stiff that the dimple in his left cheek stayed hidden.
When I reached the store, I put the mask on before pulling the door open.
A bell dinged, alerting the man behind the counter to my presence.
He was ancient, with yellowish skin so saggy it looked like it was melting, and big, hard eyes set under bushy gray brows.
His hair was just as unruly, and his shirt was stained and had several holes at the collar.
He wasn’t wearing a mask, which despite the pandemic, wasn’t much of a surprise.
People moved to places like this so they could live on the outskirts of society and create their own rules.
The man eyed me with unconcealed suspicion as I approached, his eyes not once straying from my face.
“Help you?” he asked in a gravelly voice that screamed smoker.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Realizing he might deny me this privilege unless I bought something, I waved to the door and added, “My husband is filling up, then we’re going to get a few snacks before we get back on the road.”
The man’s focus stayed on my face when he waved. “Back of the store. The lock don’t work, but since there ain’t nobody else ’round, you’ll be good.”
“Thanks,” I said with genuine gratitude.
My bladder was edging its way toward an emergency situation.
I studied the interior of the store as I headed back.
It was as shabby and as dirty as I’d expected, with shelves half full of random items, most of which I couldn’t imagine anyone buying.
Cheap stuffed animals, boxes and cans of miscellaneous processed food that made my stomach turn, more lighters than one store would ever need, and other useless things.
There were plenty of snacks too, but I made a mental note to check the expiration dates before I bought anything.
The layer of dust coating everything in the store didn’t give me a whole lot of confidence that any of it would be fresh.
The odor of urine and something rotten hit me before I’d reached the bathroom, so it was no surprise that I flicked on the light to discover it was even more disgusting than the rest of the place.
The sink was brown and filmy, the toilet didn’t have a seat, the floor was sticky, and black mold grew in every corner.
It also smelled like something had died in it, which immediately had my gag reflex working overtime.
A heightened sense of smell was one of the many side effects of pregnancy, and in that moment, it was also my least favorite.
Best to get this over with as fast as possible.
Hovering over the toilet was a challenge with my round body, but I managed, and emptying my bladder was so profound I actually moaned in relief.
I opted not to wash my hands when I was finished since the sink looked dirtier than the toilet and I was very afraid I might catch something.
There were probably enough bacteria growing in this bathroom to start another pandemic.
I almost ran into Marc when I opened the door.
“What is it?” I demanded.
He had a mask over his nose and mouth, but I didn’t need to see his whole face to know something wasn’t good. The worry in his brown eyes said it all.
“The card wouldn’t work. I even tried mine, which was doubly risky, but it was all I could think to do.” He shoved his hand through his short, dark hair. “It didn’t work either. We can’t get gas.”
“Shit. How much do we have left?”
“Enough for maybe an hour if we’re lucky, but we still have around five to go. I don’t know what to do, Ara.”
I wanted to cry. We couldn’t go down like this, not in a filthy gas station in the middle of nowhere.
There had to be a way out of this, but, like Marc, I had no clue how to fix things.
All my personal items had been left in my room when I was taken into custody, so I didn’t have a credit card.
Even if I did, though, I doubted it would have worked.
Probably the government had frozen all my assets the second they realized Marc and I had run off.
Maybe even before. It was entirely possible that everything about me ceased to exist the second I arrived at the Stanley.
I looked around like something in the store would inspire me, and realized the man behind the counter was watching us.
The hair on my scalp prickled. Had he overheard our conversation?
We were on the other side of the room, but the store was small, and Marc hadn’t exactly been whispering.
Then again, I wasn’t sure if it mattered.
He’d probably been alerted the second Marc’s card rejected.
I turned my attention back to Marc. “We’ll have to go as far as we can.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know.”
We stared at one another, both of us knowing what would happen then but neither one daring to voice it. We’d be caught and sent to prison, and our baby would be taken away. It was the only possible ending to this scenario.
After a few seconds of silence, Marc said, “Okay. That’s what we’ll do.”
He took my hand and, together, we headed for the door.
“You ain’t buying nothing?” the man said when we reached him.
Marc hesitated, his eyes flitting to me then quickly back to the man. “No. Sorry.”
The man pressed his lips together, his eyes hardening, and I thought he was going to yell at us. Maybe cuss us out. Maybe even spit in our faces.
What he did instead shocked me.
“Been listenin’ to the radio,” he began, waving to the little mechanical box next to him like he thought we were unfamiliar with what it was. “They’re lookin’ for some fugitives they say held up a gas station in Colorado.”
Marc stiffened.
“Thing is,” the man continued, “I ain’t buying the story they’re tryin’ to sell. See, the government’s been mighty sketchy when it comes to pregnant women, which has me wonderin’ if that woman might be makin’ a break for the border ’cause of something they did. Know what I mean?”
Marc’s neck was so stiff that his head barely moved when he nodded.
“I don’t trust ’em,” the man went on. “Never have but ’specially not now. Not with what they’re doing to fertile women.”
His gaze flitted to my stomach for the first time since I’d walked into the building, and I broke out in a cold sweat. Everything he was saying made it sound like he was on our side, but I had no idea if we could trust him. I didn’t know if we could trust anyone, if I were being honest.
The man’s focus was still on my stomach when he reached over and flipped a switch.
“I can give you half a tank on the house but that’s it.
Hopefully, it’s ’nough to get you to Canada.
” He focused his hard eyes on me. “Get some snacks and water for the road. I ain’t gonna send you away with an empty stomach. ”
I blinked, shocked and speechless and still unsure.
“Why are you helping us?” Marc asked.
“Told you,” the man snapped. “Don’t trust the government. Never have.” He gruffly jerked his head toward the door. “The authorities are already headed this way, so you best get moving. Before it’s too late.”
Marc released my hand and took a step toward the door, still staring at the man. “Thank you.”
All he got in response was a grunt.
Marc shifted his focus to me. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Outside,” I agreed.
He rushed from the store.
When he was gone, the man focused on me. “Best get going, too. They won’t be long.”
I hurried to the snacks, grabbing things at random despite my earlier resolve to check expiration dates. I didn’t want to take advantage, so I only took a few things, as well as two bottles of water, but hoped it would be enough to tide us over until we made it to Canada.
My arms full, I rushed to the front of the store but paused beside the register. “You’re going to get in trouble for this.”
“Naw,” the man replied with a shrug. “I’ll tell ’em you left without getting gas.”
I gestured to the camera mounted on the wall behind him. “And the footage?”
He let out a raspy laugh. “That thing ain’t worked in years. You’ll be okay.”
I exhaled in relief as I took a step toward the door. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The man sobered. “It ain’t right what they’re doin’ to you. It ain’t.”
I gave him a sad smile even though it was covered by my mask. “If only more people thought that.”
He nodded, and I returned the gesture, then I spun on my heel and ran from the store.
Marc was just putting the lid back on the gas tank when I reached him.
“You ready?”
“Yes,” I said, breathless from my mad dash through the store.
He waved to the car. “Let’s go.”
We were on the road less than a minute later.