It isn’t easy. The Cadillac’s trunk is smaller than it looks, and it’s cold and uncomfortable and every bump in the road jars his injured shoulder. But after an hour or so he closes his eyes, and only opens them again when the car slows to a crawl. He checks his watch in the red glow of the tail lights. He’s been asleep for nearly two hours.

The car stops, and he can hear muffled voices, and then car doors opening and closing. He stays very quiet, tracking one set of footsteps as they lumber away, and another as they get closer. There’s a loud rattle, and for a moment he doesn’t know what it is, then metal bangs lightly against metal and he knows even before the gurgle and splash sounds that they’re at the pumps of a gas station.

There’s a knock on the lid of the trunk.

“You doing OK in there, Danny my boy?”

Danny frowns. He sincerely doesn’t know how to answer that.

“Danny?” Gant says again. “You OK?”

“I’m fine,” Danny calls. He realises how loud his voice sounds. It takes a moment for the most obvious plan in the world to occur to him, and he starts shouting. “Help! Somebody help me! I’m trapped in here! Call 911!”

He hears Gant’s chuckle. “That’s the spirit. How are the legs? Pretty cramped, I would imagine. And the bladder? I don’t know about you, Danny, but long journeys tend to put a squeeze on things, if you know what I mean. If you want to use the restroom, just let me know.”

“I want to,” Danny says at once.

“You sure? You wouldn’t be saying that in a bold attempt to be let out of the trunk and make your escape, now would you?”

“I need to go,” says Danny. This isn’t a lie. He’s suddenly become aware of the pressure that has built up.

The gurgling stops, and the trunk clicks and lifts. It’s night, and the gas station’s lights fill Danny’s eyes and he gropes blindly about as he sits up. He feels Gant’s long, strong fingers at the ropes that bind him, then they loosen and fall away. Gant helps him clamber awkwardly out of the trunk. Once out, he stays bent over, rubbing his legs to get some feeling back into them. Gant goes back to filling the car.

The road is unlit but the gas station is of a more than modest size. There’s another car at the pumps, a station wagon, and two more in the parking slots. That means people. That means a way out. Danny straightens up.

“Go use the restroom and then come back,” Gant says. “No dilly-dallying.”