Page 73 of The End of the World As We Know It
Presently?Alan mouthed silently.
“So, you aren’t so much looking after it for him as claiming it,” said the brunette.
“Mary!” exclaimed the blonde. “Be nice. This isn’t our town.”
“Okay, okay. I’m just saying,” she said, not really apologizing.
“What’re y’all doing around here?” asked Derek.
“Our car ran out of gas up on I-10,” said the blonde.
“Yeah,” said Mary. “Do you know how hard it is out there to find an open gas station?”
“How bad is it out there?” asked Alan.
“We’ve heard this is happening everywhere,” said Derek.
“Oh, it is,” said the blonde. “Everyone is dying out there. Almost nothing works anymore. And Mary’s right. Finding gas stations with anyone working them is impossible.”
“I’m Derek. This is Alan. Where are y’all headed?”
“Vegas,” the two girls said together.
“No shit,” said Alan. “Our buddy was just talking about Vegas last night.”
“You thinking about going to Vegas?” asked the blonde.
“Is that an invitation?” asked Derek, cranking the charm to what he thought was a Roosevelt eleven, but was actually more of a dive bar three.
Alan punched him in the arm. “Knock it off. These ladies have bigger problems than dealing with you.”
The blonde smiled. “Oh, I don’t mind a little innocent flirting. Been a while since we met nice boys.”
“Really?” asked Derek.
“It’s a nightmare out there,” said Mary. “I’m Mary. This is Sheila.” The blonde waved in response. “Y’all wouldn’t happen to know where to get some gas around here, would you?”
“Yeah,” said Derek. “Truck stop.”
“Tried that,” said Mary coldly. “It’s shut down.”
“Yeah, but Alan used to work there when he was a teenager. He knows how to work the pump switches.”
“Yeah,” said Alan. “We could get you filled up and back on the road in no time.”
Mary softened, eyes wide and flush with sudden affection. She smiled and put a hand on Alan’s arm. “You’d do that for us?”
“Neighborly thing to do.”
“Christian thing to do,” said Derek, eyeing the cross dangling above her bosom.
“So, you’re not going to need that iron there, then, are you?” She looked down at the tire iron Alan was absentmindedly holding in his left hand.
“Oh, oh! I’m so sorry,” he said, apologizing. “We just didn’t know who you were.”
“It’s cool,” said Mary. “But, you know, being two girls alone on the road, a tire iron sends a particular message.”
Alan hid the tire iron behind his back for a moment sheepishly, then turned and walked back to the truck to throw it in the truck bed.
