John knew he needed to stop driving. It was dark and the tank was running near empty. Not to mention he was exhausted. He didn't want to though. If they stopped to rest that could put more distance between himself and Anna. What if she wasn't at this facility? What if she never was? What if she was... No. He couldn't go down that root. Not again.
"This isn't a good place to park," a harsh voice called
"I donnae want to park," John muttered, his accent thick and gravelly due to how tired he was.
"Then why slow down?"
"Have I?" John frowned.
"Yeah," the voice demanded
John squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I dinnae notice."
"Then you probably needed to stop."
"Maybe. I donnae want to stop though. It'll waste time."
"Will if you fall asleep at the wheel and die too."
"Why don't you drive then?" John muttered.
"Never passed the test." An elderly woman hobbled out of the darkness. "Motorbikes me."
John took both hands off the steering wheel and scrubbed them down his face. He really didn't notice when he had stopped but apparently he had even shut the engine off. He looked out the window at the woman, blinking in surprise. "Sorry, ma'am, I was... Motorbikes?"
"What I can drive, with a sidecar, of course."
"Of course." He couldn't help the faint smile that touched his lips. "Are you by yourself, ma'am?"
"I kept my grandson back, he needs to keep safe."
He could understand that. "Why isn't this a good place to park?" he asked, gong back over the absent conversation.
"You have a running engine, and some belongings I shouldn't wonder, begging to be looted out here," The old lady replied. "Come, use the garage."
"I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're not coming into the house"
He quirked a slight smile. "Of course."
"But the garage is safe enough."
"Thank you. We won't stay long."
"I know that, no breakfast.
John frowned. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I'm not feeding you!"
"I dinnae expect you to. I promise, we'll stay long enough to rest for a bit. Believe me, I donnae want to stop long."
"We?"
Daniel nodded to the back. "My friend, Jamal. He's sleeping."
"Fine, fine," a birdlike hand fluttered
"If you point me towards the garage, Ma'am, I'll get out of your hair and let you get back to your grandson."
"Bobby knows better than to come out," she hobbled off again