Keep Busy

15.

They'd driven on through the night keeping the conversation relatively sparse. After Jane mentioned how beautiful the stars looked through the hole in the roof a third time, Frank grumpily decided to pack it in. He pulled over and climbed into the back seat, curling up under an old Mexican blanket they'd picked up a few stops back. He was hamming up the sulking routine which may have been a bit exaggerated but produced the desired effect. Jane clearly found it endearing.

While Frank slept Jane decided to relax before getting back behind the wheel. Not that she needed to actually relax but because it was something she used to do when she was alive. Just take a moment to decompress. She read a few more of Frank's magazines and even tried smoking one of his cigarettes. It tasted like nothing, so she flicked it into the darkness, watching the glowing orange cherry draw evaporating circles in the night air. Ultimately, she just sat serenely and watched the dawn break over the billowy trees.

As morning painted the world in bright primary colors, Jane contemplated eating Frank. She was down to a half-bag of blood which would probably only last her through the next day. She wondered what would happen after—if she had to go days without sustenance. Will I start to rot? Is my mind going to go? Will I be able to control myself around him? She wondered how Frank would feel about just letting her eat a little piece of him. Like... just a bite.

She shook the thought.

As hungry as she knew she was going to get, she also knew she wasn't going to try to eat Frank. She liked him. Even with the drinking and smoking, the OCD and the extremely dark sense of humor, she liked him. He was rugged and charmless, scruffy and irritable but absolutely compelling. There was no way she could eat him. Him eating her on the other hand...

Frank farted noisily from the back seat, waking himself up. He rubbed his eyes, scrunched up his nose and looked out the window, spying Jane sitting on the shoulder.

He knocked on the glass to get her attention. She turned, looking radiant in the morning light. He gaped at her a moment then half-shouted, "We going?"

Jane got up, collected the magazines and brushed off her ass before getting back in the passenger seat.

"I'm driving again?" Frank asked stretching.

"Yeah, if you don't mind." She neatly placed the magazines on the floor between her feet and squinted as the early sun poured through the shattered front window.

"It's fine. Just let me piss." Frank hopped out, marveling at how creaky his bones felt. The lingering throb of a headache pushed at his temples, but it was manageable. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his mind briefly and unwittingly revisited the traumatic incident at the urgent care facility. He looked down at his penis and said, "Don't worry. It's all gonna be fine." Languid steam rose from the puddle of urine he left in the middle of the road.

He got back in the 4 Runner and started it up, grabbing the cigarettes off the dash, then peeled back onto the road, still heading into the nebulous south. Frank was rubbing sleep out of his eyes and yawning between drags. He rolled his shoulders back and forth trying to get the blood flowing.

"You think I can still have an orgasm?" Jane asked after a few miles.

Frank coughed on an inhale, sputtering, his eyes watering up. "Jesus. Good morning."

"Morning," Jane said brightly, flashing her teeth. "But for reals, you think I could still cum?"

"Alright," he slapped the wheel, "stop begging. Yes, I'll have sex with you."