Headlights filled the interior of the car with light and she squinted against the harshness of it until the other vehicle had passed. In that glare her skin was dead white, her eyes dark pits. Then the light was gone, only the instrument panel casting a dim green glow that made her complexion look sickly.
There was movement from the back seat and a tired man's voice asked: "How far?"
She answered without looking back, sparing only a brief flick of her eyes to the rear vision mirror: "Since we switched? Nine, ten hours. I stopped for gas a while back, but you were out like a light so I let you sleep."
He yawned and sat up, dark hair askew. "You shouldn't have done that, but I appreciate it. Has there been anything?"
She shook her head. "Not much. A few radio reports from the effected area, just garbled nonsense. No-one really knows what's going on. Or what to do."
"If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't know what was going on either. Hold on, I'm coming over."
She focussed on the steering while he climbed from the back seat to the passenger seat beside her. She grimaced as he jostled her arm slightly, but said nothing.
"You look like hell," he commented once he had settled, glancing over at her. "You want me to drive?"
"In a bit. I want to make the most of the open road while we have it." She ignored his comment about her appearance, knowing how she looked would be an inadequate reflection of how she felt. She'd lived with the fear for so many days now, she barely noticed the sour tang of adrenaline in her mouth. "There's jerky in the glove box if you're hungry."
He opened the hatch by reflex, pulling out the package. "Want some?" he asked as he opened it. The car filled with the smell of dried beef and teriyaki sauce, reminding her of the taste of heartburn. She shook her head again.
"We made good time once we got out of the city," she said, voice slightly flat and blurred with weariness. "It should take a few days for it to..." Her voice trailled off, not sure how to continue.
"Catch up?" he supplied. "It's okay, I know." He turned to the road unspooling before them in the headlights, the first drops of rain appearing on the windscreen. In the glow of the instrument panel, the liquid looked black and sluggish, clinging obstinately to the glass. She turned the wipers on, smearing the windscreen.
"If you know it's hopeless, then why...?"
"Why keep going?" He shrugged. "I dunno. Something to do, I guess? The idea of sitting and waiting for the inevitable..." He made a soft snorting sound. "Not really my thing."
"I don't know what else to do," she admitted softly, and her expression cracked, softened. "I've always loved driving. All my life, whenever I needed to clear my head, I'd get in the car and just go. When it started, when New York... disappeared, well, I did what I always do. I drove."
He was quiet for a while, watching the regular beat of the wipers, the rain on the window. A reddish glow filled the sky behind him, filling the rear vision mirror with light the colour of blood. They'd gotten less time than she'd thought.
He lay his hand over hers as she gripped the steering wheel.
"Just drive," he said.
There was movement from the back seat and a tired man's voice asked: "How far?"
She answered without looking back, sparing only a brief flick of her eyes to the rear vision mirror: "Since we switched? Nine, ten hours. I stopped for gas a while back, but you were out like a light so I let you sleep."
He yawned and sat up, dark hair askew. "You shouldn't have done that, but I appreciate it. Has there been anything?"
She shook her head. "Not much. A few radio reports from the effected area, just garbled nonsense. No-one really knows what's going on. Or what to do."
"If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't know what was going on either. Hold on, I'm coming over."
She focussed on the steering while he climbed from the back seat to the passenger seat beside her. She grimaced as he jostled her arm slightly, but said nothing.
"You look like hell," he commented once he had settled, glancing over at her. "You want me to drive?"
"In a bit. I want to make the most of the open road while we have it." She ignored his comment about her appearance, knowing how she looked would be an inadequate reflection of how she felt. She'd lived with the fear for so many days now, she barely noticed the sour tang of adrenaline in her mouth. "There's jerky in the glove box if you're hungry."
He opened the hatch by reflex, pulling out the package. "Want some?" he asked as he opened it. The car filled with the smell of dried beef and teriyaki sauce, reminding her of the taste of heartburn. She shook her head again.
"We made good time once we got out of the city," she said, voice slightly flat and blurred with weariness. "It should take a few days for it to..." Her voice trailled off, not sure how to continue.
"Catch up?" he supplied. "It's okay, I know." He turned to the road unspooling before them in the headlights, the first drops of rain appearing on the windscreen. In the glow of the instrument panel, the liquid looked black and sluggish, clinging obstinately to the glass. She turned the wipers on, smearing the windscreen.
"If you know it's hopeless, then why...?"
"Why keep going?" He shrugged. "I dunno. Something to do, I guess? The idea of sitting and waiting for the inevitable..." He made a soft snorting sound. "Not really my thing."
"I don't know what else to do," she admitted softly, and her expression cracked, softened. "I've always loved driving. All my life, whenever I needed to clear my head, I'd get in the car and just go. When it started, when New York... disappeared, well, I did what I always do. I drove."
He was quiet for a while, watching the regular beat of the wipers, the rain on the window. A reddish glow filled the sky behind him, filling the rear vision mirror with light the colour of blood. They'd gotten less time than she'd thought.
He lay his hand over hers as she gripped the steering wheel.
"Just drive," he said.