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down.”

Alarm filled Matthew. He helped David settle back on the ground. David hung his head, his fingers rubbing at his temples. Matthew glanced between him and the open road. As much as he didn’t want to leave his father, he was coming to the realization that he might just have to.

27

“It looks like you might get your way, Dad,” Matthew said as he wiped at the sweat beading on David’s forehead. “You can’t go on like this, and we need to restock our supplies. Are you positive you can’t walk? We could get you off the highway and try to find some shade somewhere.”

David took another sip of water. “As soon as I stood up, I felt nauseous,” he admitted. “I felt lightheaded and my heart started pounding.”

“Drink more,” Matthew urged and watched as David grimaced, taking another sip. “You have to stay hydrated.” He expected David to crack a joke, give him hell for acting like a mother hen, but his father’s sudden obedience left Matthew resolute in what he needed to do. David must’ve truly felt terrible if he didn’t utter a grumble at Matthew’s fussing. Matthew pursed his lips and made his decision final. “There’s another exit just up the ways. I’m going to go check it out by myself and bring back supplies. I’ll get more food and water, plus every piece of medical supplies I can find.”

“Okay,” David managed to say, shutting his eyes. His breath came out in wheezy gasps. Matthew felt the urge to put his fingers against his father’s neck and feel his heartbeat and find reassurance in that familiar rhythm. David’s appearance was worse than when he’d been in the ICU after the heart attack. Frail, as if the hulking hugeness of his spirit had been diminished. When Matthew saw him lying in the white hospital bed with tubes coming out of his arm and nose, David looked nothing like the man Matthew remembered from his youth. The heart attack had taken away the bear of a man David used to be, and left this fragile form in its place.

That frail man had recovered, but now the gunshot would had diminished the hugeness of David’s spirit, just like the heart attack had. Matthew hated it, but it only made him more determined that he would save his father, no matter what.

“I won’t be gone long,” Matthew said quietly. “I’ll be back with more supplies, okay? Until then, don’t do anything foolish.”

“Me?” David asked, cracking one eye open. “You’re the bleeding heart between the two of us. Who knows what strays you’ll bring back with you this time.”

Matthew didn’t have the energy to smile. A secret fear was lodged deep inside him. He was terrified that if he let his father out of his sight for one moment, he’d return to find a man withered away to nothing. But if he didn’t leave David to look for more medical supplies, he knew the outcome would be even worse. His father might die.

Unzipping his backpack again, he pulled out a couple bottles of water and the first aid kit, along with some chips, jerky, and a couple of power bars. He organized them in a neat pile beside David and then tucked the gun inside the bag, making sure the safety was turned on. “There’s food and water right next to you,” he explained. “The first aid kit is here too, in case you need something from it. Dad, I swear to you that this is temporary. I will come back for you. I want to be crystal clear that I am not leaving you behind.”

“I know you aren’t,” David said.

“You have to promise me you won’t die on me. I can’t…I can’t come back to that. Promise me.”

David gave him a disbelieving smile. “Sure, son. I promise.”

“I’m serious. Don’t joke at a time like this, please.”

“So am I. Should we make it a pinky-promise? Hurry up, now. You’re wasting daylight.”

Matthew stood and slipped his pack over his shoulders. He looked down at his father and the supplies next to him as if he could remember this moment forever. He felt as if he was clinging to this image of David and willing him not to worsen. “Make sure you eat something,” he said, hoping this wasn’t an order David would disobey just because he could.

“You’re worse than my mother,” David said, shooing Matthew away with a weak hand, but then he turned serious and his joking faded away. “Get going, Matthew. I’ll be waiting here for you. I promise. Just don’t take too long.”

Matthew nodded and turned, wanting to tell his father, I love you, but that felt too much like a goodbye. Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he picked up the pace, using his long stride to cover the ground between his father and the exit. It felt good to finally have the chance to walk at a speed he was comfortable with, and while the landscape remained mainly unchanged, his father became a smaller and smaller speck behind him.

He didn’t know how long it took him to reach the exit, but the sun had just begun to pass its zenith. Ahead of him, the road curved off and down to the right. Matthew looked over the guardrail to see a cluster of gas stations at the base of the exit ramp, and much farther beyond that, the blue and white sign of a Walmart. He let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for options. Hopefully, one of the gas stations was open and he could gather what he needed. The sooner, the better.

Picking up the pace, he jogged down the exit and headed for the first gas station. As soon as he approached it, he realized the interior was too dark. When he tried the doors, he found them locked. He tried to look past the shuttered windows and peered inside, searching to see if anyone might be in there whose attention he could catch, but the

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