78

“What the hell were you doing in there?” Zack said when Sarah emerged from the store.

She tossed two bags into the rear and handed him a coffee. “What’s the problem?”

He put the coffee in the holder and pulled the car out of the slot with a jerk. “The problem is we’re running out of time.”

“It was crowded. And a line for the coffee.” She turned her face out the window.

He pulled back onto Route 1, thinking that she was probably regretting she had come with him. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, hoping to clear the air. “What did you get?”

“A change of clothes.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You brought sleeping bags. I’m not overnighting in the woods.”

“We’ll be fine.” They drove without saying any more, but a prickly silence filled the car. He pulled back onto the turnpike.

“You have a compass?” she asked.

“What for?”

“If we’re going to be walking in the woods, we’ll need one.”

“Yes, I have a compass.”

She glanced in the direction of his duffel bag. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She doesn’t believe in you, he thought. She doesn’t believe any of this. But that’s okay. She’s blindsided.

He merged with the turnpike traffic, which was heavy with weekend beach traffic.

The sun was still high in the sky. It hadn’t begun to tilt to the western tree line yet. But it would soon enough. Then night would fall.

Let there be time, he whispered in his head. Let this be so.


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