Mason stopped the pickup outside one of the gas stations. Got the washroom key from the guy inside and circled around back to make use of the facilities. Jess stayed in the car, Lucy still piled on top of her. Jess looked catatonic, and no matter how many times Lucy licked at her face and snuggled against her, she hadn’t showed any sign of improvement. It wasn’t an encouraging situation.

The little restroom stank of piss and was scrawled over with graffiti. Mason found a clear piece of mirror to examine his face. His lip was fat and red; he had something of a black eye. The side of his head was matted blood where Cole Sweeney had pistol-whipped him. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and that was starting to show. Whether it was the harsh light in the restroom or the fatigue, he wasn’t going to win any beauty contests until he’d had a long shower and a longer nap.

His hands were cut up from clambering over those junk cars, too. He cleaned the wounds as best he was able, which wasn’t very well at all. Splashed some cold water on his face, tried to fix his hair so it covered the blood, tried out a smile for the mirror—quickly saw the error in the notion. He walked out of the restroom, to return the key and head back to the Chevy to see about Jess.

Jess was sitting up straighter when Mason climbed back into the truck. She’d shifted positions and had Lucy beside her now, was scratching behind her ears as the dog leaned in and gave some deep kind of grumble of pleasure. Jess looked up when Mason entered the truck, couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on losing my shit in front of you, but sometimes…”

“Don’t sweat it,” Mason replied. “You saved our asses on that farm. Least I could do is drive for a little bit.”

Jess stopped scratching Lucy’s neck, and Lucy grumbled a little louder and pressed harder against her.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jess asked him, her voice hollow. “You got your dog back, right, that mean you’re just going to screw off and go on back to Michigan or whatever, mission accomplished?”

She still wasn’t looking at Mason, was staring straight ahead now, out at the gas pumps and the night and whatever else.

“I mean, your work is done,” Jess continued. “You got what you came for, so I guess you can leave now, right? Is that kind of what you’re thinking you’ll do?”

“No,” Mason said.

Jess didn’t say anything.