We run to the Jeep. In the butte’s long shadow, the Jeep looks miniature and my brother looks even smaller in the passenger seat. When I scramble to the door, his face breaks into a huge smile. “Riley,” he says, groggily. He wraps his arms around my neck.

My hands shake as I clutch him to my chest. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” I whisper into this shoulder.

When I let him go, his eyes slide from me to Clay. The delight on his face rivals what he had for me. I’ll have to take it. If I’m falling for Clay, I can’t deny Ethan his big brother.

“Thanks, Clay.” He turns to me. “He got you for me. I was worried you were gone.”

“I told you I’d never leave. Are you okay? Hungry? We need to get you something to eat.” I sound like my mother. I dig in the back for some food.

He holds up a hunk of bread. “Clay got it for me.”

“Oh.” I pull out a jug of water from the pack and hold it up. “How about some water?”

Ethan lifts the water jug sitting next to him with the other hand.

I keep smiling, but something’s shifted inside of me. I turn away from the boys and busy myself with folding the blanket. It keeps me from snapping at Clay who’s only trying to help. Maybe that’s one thing not to like about Clay—he’s too efficient. But if someone doesn’t give me something to do soon, I’ll go crazy.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, I wish I’d never longed for something to do. Clay’s driving when the car slows. At first I think he’s spotted road trash, but no. He glances at the fuel gauge, then back at me. “We’re out of gas.”

“Pull over and we’ll fill it with the reserve can in the back.” I glance back at Ethan who’s busy counting abandoned cars. “How many so far?”

“Thirteen. Why are we stopping?” His bright eyes follow mine.

“Just out of gas,” I say. “We have more.”

“We do?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“More than what was in here?” He holds up our reserve gas jug. He turns the red plastic jug toward me. It’s empty. The large bullet hole at the bottom right corner took care of our gas. It must’ve been hit in the shooting. We’re screwed. I look back to Clay.

“No gas?” he asks.

“No gas.” Panic bells ring in my head. Stranded on the side of the road is bad. Not getting to my mama on time is worse.

Clay glides us to a stop and turns off the Jeep. For a moment we all sit on the side of the road without speaking. Ethan’s the first to break the silence.

“What’ll we do now, Clay?” he asks.