Chapitre 39: Chapter 40

Hank is one step ahead of me, running while he holds my hand and pulls me along, sometimes looking backward to see if we're being chased. We aren't. He did a thorough job pistol-whipping our abductors, and I figure they're out for the count.

However, I'm not taking any chances, and I'm not slowing down, even though the desert floor is tearing the soles of my feet. Hank is faring slightly better. He's managed to keep his flip-flops securely on his feet, his toes curled tightly to keep them from falling off while he runs.

We go full out for about ten minutes before Hank stops. "Over there," he says, pointing toward a small outcropping of structures in the middle of the desert. "A town," he explains.

I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand so I can see better. It's not much of a town. A few shacks and several squat buildings. But I bet dollars to donuts that there's a toilet in the town and probably a cold glass of water.