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WE WERE BACK ON the road not long after our conversation. We didn't want to give anyone a chance to find us. I felt like there was a warrant out for my arrest and an old fashioned signs with my face drawn on it with script at the bottom that said WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE.

Jack insisted on driving so I was seated shotgun with my bare feet on the dashboard. The sun was hot on my feet but it felt good. Having a destination felt good.

A few hours ago we didn't have any idea of where we would spend the next night or what to do. Sure, we still don't know where we're going to spend the night, but we know which direction to go. We weren't sure if home was safe, or a home anymore. We didn't know where we could go. I didn't have any leads on anything useful for my abnormality. This plan felt good.

Jack kept up a stream of conversation if the car became too quiet. His Volvo sedan was relatively new, newer than my car which I had left behind, so the engine was quiet and the ride was smooth. Every four or five hours we would stop for gas or to stretch our legs. I would pay for every other tank. He had paid for the last two motel stays, and whatever gas, so I wanted to pay my half. This was all my idea anyway.

This was relaxing, despite the circumstances. Between the radio and Jack, my mind stayed fairly busy. I had a break from the ghosts and the guilt and the sorrow that came with the whirlwind of the last two days.

I hardly felt the exhaustion I knew my body probably had. The coffee's effects were lasting longer, probably because I was moving less or maybe some other reason. Each time we stopped for gas, I would grab a soda with caffeine to ensure that I wouldn't pass out.

My hands itched to do something. Not something. They wanted to sketch. Unfortunately, I had left my sketch pad and pencils at home. That thought made me sad. If I had them I would be much better at sorting and dealing with my emotions.

Jack pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of another gas station. When he pulled to a complete stop in front of a pump I unbuckled my seat belt and hopped out of the car. There was no feeling quite like being able to stand after a few hours spent sitting in a car. I stretched my stiff joints and moaned in pleasure.

Jack gave me an amused look. He reached for the gas pump and I walked around the nose of the car. The windshield was a little dirty and I was a little bored so I grabbed the windshield cleaner device and slapped it on the car. We had agreed to go in the stores together. Never alone. We both feared that our names or faces would be plastered somewhere.

While the gas filled up in the tank, Jack walked over to where I was meticulously cleaning the glass.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It was dirty."

"It wasn't that dirty."

I shrugged. "Oh well. Now it's going to be extra clean."

He nodded. "When do you want to stop for the night?"

I glanced up at the sky. The sun was hovering low near the horizon. It wasn't close enough that we had to worry about sunset soon, but we did need to figure how long we wanted to drive into the dark. I knew Jack probably wanted a real night's sleep and I would make sure he got it. One of us had to sleep.

"Probably sometime close to dusk. Put a little more distance between us and West Virginia." I didn't know exactly where we were, but I knew that we weren't in West Virginia anymore. I felt like I should be talking to a dog named Toto. Any distance that we put between us and home made it a smidge more difficult for them to find us. There were fifty states, after all. Forty-eight since we couldn't exactly drive to Hawaii or Alaska without getting on a plane or driving across the country's borders.

Jack nodded. He walked away when the pump clicked, sending a shockwave of motion through the tube to the nozzle. When he finished putting the nozzle back and closing the gas tank's lid, we walked into the convenience store. It was small and old. The tiles on the floor were chipping and the lights in the ceiling flickered every few minutes.

This place was barely holding it together. The woman behind the counter had her eyes trained on the ancient television suspended from the ceiling. It was one of those televisions with the box. The ones that children of this generation would wonder why it was so big and why it had a box. The television played a local news channel. It was covering some accident and other tragedies that had hit this small town in the last few days.

Jack milled in the snack aisle, grabbing a few things. I followed him and my eyes fastened on the small row of Oreos. Faster than I thought possible, I grabbed a couple packages of the delicious chocolate sandwiches.

Jack arched an eyebrow. "You like Oreos, huh?"

I looked down at my hands full of the snack and grinned. "You don't?"

"No, they're good. But you seem to have an unusual liking to them," he teased.

"They are my first love. Mother gave me some when I was five or something. Haven't turned since."

He chuckled and moved on to the drink aisle. Even though this place looked like it would fall over if the wind blew it wrong, they had a large variety of drinks. Including coffee. I gravitated towards the caffeine and poured a test amount into a cup to see if I liked it. When the bitter liquid hit my tongue, I sighed. It was unexpected how good it was. I ditched the small cup I had grabbed and I opted for the largest size and filled it as full as I could.

Jack took a soda and a water bottle. We walked to the check out counter together and unloaded our goodies on it. The woman lazily moved her eyes from the screen to us. She appraised our inventory before grabbing them one by one to scan them. I wanted to groan at her turtle-approved pace.

Behind us, the news story switched to a different voice. I pivoted to watch the screen. There seemed to be more than enough time to watch this segment before she finished ringing us up.

"Thank you, Kent. Today a local first grader did something that no ordinary first grader would do," the woman on the screen started. She had perfectly coiffed hair and make up. She sat in a rigid position and smiled warmly at the screen as she spoke.

I wanted to roll my eyes. At the bottom of the screen was a news scroll of various events and the occasional stock numbers from around the country. One sentence caught my eye in particular.

Two men murdered in motel room. No suspects have been announced yet.

My blood ran cold and I froze. We were hours away from where the accident happened. If the story was reaching here, it could be reaching anywhere. I spun back around to where the woman was scanning the last of our items. Jack had a look of annoyance on his face. I wished that I had a hoodie so I could hide my face. And his. If anyone were to come through here asking if they saw a girl with purple eyes this woman would be able to say yes. It's not everyday that someone with purple eyes walks through those doors. At least I assumed not in a town so small.

Jack handed her a ten and she took it from his hands. She pushed a few buttons on the register and handed him a few coins back. He took and shoved them in his front pocket. She bagged up the items carelessly but at this point I didn't care. At least she was being quick about it. When she finally finished I snatched the bag from her and stalked out the doors, my back rigid.

I slammed the car door shut when I climbed in and laid my head back on the headrest. It wasn't like that was a close encounter, but it certainly showed me that I needed to be more careful if the government came snooping around small towns. Or any town.

Jack slid into his seat and turned to look at me. "Are you okay? You ran out of there pretty quickly."

I shook my head. "On that news channel, at the bottom, they had a scroll of news and the two men that – that I murdered were on there. They said they had no suspects, but if someone comes snooping around..." I trailed off. My looks were not striking, but my eyes were.

He nodded, understanding. "Okay. Next stop I'll go inside and you'll stay in the car. I'm less recognizable than you are. For them at least."

What he didn't say hung in the air between us.They didn't want him. They wanted me. I just didn't know what lengths theywould go to get me.     

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