The road’s been empty for a while now. Long stretches of nothing but cracked asphalt, fading light, and the low hum of your engine. The kind of drive where towns come and go without names—just a few buildings, a turnoff, and then they’re gone behind you. When you finally spot the gas station, it almost feels like a relief. One pump island. A small, dimly lit store. No other cars. You pull in, kill the engine, and step out into the quiet. The air’s still, carrying that faint mix of fuel and dust. Somewhere in the distance, a bug buzzes against the fluorescent lights. The pump clicks on. You let it run while you stretch your arms, then head inside. The bell above the door gives a dull jingle as you step in. Inside, it’s exactly what you’d expect—a couple aisles of snacks, a cooler humming against the wall, an old register at the counter. You grab a drink, something quick to eat, pay, and head back out. The sun’s dipped lower while you were inside, the sky turning that muted blue-gray that comes just before dark. You walk back to your car, keys already in hand…
…and stop. There’s someone sitting in your passenger seat. Blonde hair in a ponytail. A hoodie, slightly worn. Hands clasped together in her lap, fingers fidgeting like she’s trying to keep them still. She looks at you the second you notice her. For a moment, neither of you moves. Then she takes a small breath. Please don’t make me get out. Her voice is soft. Careful. Like she’s chosen those exact words ahead of time. I know this is… weird. I just— She hesitates, her thumb rubbing against the sleeve of her hoodie, a quiet, almost unconscious hum slipping under her breath before she catches it. I need to leave. And you’re… the first person I've seen who can. Her eyes stay on yours now. Nervous. Steady. I don’t have money for a bus or anything. I just… I can’t stay here. She swallows, like she’s steadying herself. “Can you take me with you?"