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It took a few tries for the car, which had been expertly hidden behind tall bushes and covered in vines, to start. Kane was ready to throw in the towel, when finally, the engine sputtered to life and the entire car trembled.
Thank Saint Sara-la-Kali.
We had hiked down the mountain, with a heavy can of gas, for over an hour before finding the car, and despite putting on a brave face and hiding his pain, I could see how Kane braced himself with each step. After a while, his breathing grew labored and sweat beaded on his forehead. I wanted to stop and rest, but I knew that if I mentioned something like that, it would only hurt him more. So, I pretended I didn’t see anything. Although, in my mind, I set a timer. If we didn’t find the car by noon, I would break for a rest even if he threw
