"I'm terrified."
Jackson smiled.
"That's usually a good sign."
"Don't joke."
"I'm not."
He handed her a spare helmet.
She inspected it.
"You carry two?"
"I used to."
Beatrice looked at him.
"For Diane?"
Jackson's expression hardened.
"You ask too many questions."
"So do you."
He couldn't argue.
She put on the helmet.
Jackson started the engine.
The Road King roared to life.
Beatrice grabbed his jacket.
"Too loud."
"You'll get used to it."
"I don't plan on getting used to it."
They pulled onto Highway 95.
For the first few miles, Beatrice held herself stiffly.
Then the wind changed.
The desert opened.
The road stretched ahead.
Jackson felt the woman behind him slowly relax.
He glanced at the mirror.
Her eyes were closed.
She was smiling.
A real smile.
The first he'd seen.
And Jackson suddenly wondered how long it had been since she had felt the road beneath her.
They rode in silence.
Ten miles.
Twenty.
Thirty.
The sun moved lower.
Boulder City was still ahead.
Then Beatrice tapped his shoulder.
Jackson slowed.
She pointed toward the roadside.
A small wooden sign stood near an abandoned gas station.
HOLLOWAY FAMILY FARM — 1 MILE.
Jackson pulled over.
"What is it?"
Beatrice removed her helmet.
"My husband's name was Thomas."
Jackson waited.
"We had a farm."
"Had?"
"Sold it."
"Why?"
She looked at the sign.
"After he died, I couldn't keep it."
She took a breath.
"There was a barn."
Jackson said nothing.
"Inside that barn was the first motorcycle Thomas ever owned."
She looked at Jackson.
"I couldn't ride his bike."
"Until today."
"Until today."
Jackson nodded.
"Why today?"
Beatrice looked toward the empty road.
"Because I woke up this morning and realized I was becoming someone I didn't recognize."
"What do you mean?"
"I've spent nine years protecting myself from pain."
She smiled sadly.
"And in the process, I stopped living."
Jackson looked away.
That sentence hit harder than it should have.
Beatrice put her helmet back on.
"Let's go."
Jackson started the engine.
This time, she didn't hesitate.
Forty Minutes
The pharmacy closed at six.
Jackson checked the clock.
4:58.
"Forty minutes," Beatrice said.
"Plenty."
"You don't know Nevada traffic."
"There's no traffic."
"Exactly."
Jackson laughed.
Beatrice laughed too.
It surprised both of them.
They continued.
The desert blurred around them.
Jackson kept his speed steady.
He wasn't interested in breaking records.
He was interested in getting Beatrice there safely.
At 5:19, his phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Then again.
Finally, he pulled over.
The number was unfamiliar.
"Hello?"
A man's voice came through.
"Jackson?"
"Who's this?"
"Frank."
Jackson frowned.
Frank was one of the older members of his motorcycle club.
"What do you need?"
"You disappeared."
"I'm riding."
"Where?"
"Doesn't matter."
Frank sighed.
"Jackson, we're meeting tonight."
"I won't make it."
"Why?"
Jackson looked at Beatrice.
"Helping someone."
There was silence.
Then Frank laughed.
"You?"
"Yeah."
"Who is she?"
Jackson's eyes narrowed.
"An old woman who needs medicine."
Frank became serious.
"You need anything?"
"No."
"Jackson."
"What?"
"You sure?"
Jackson smiled.
"I'm sure."
He ended the call.
Beatrice watched him.
"Friends?"
"Something like that."
"You could have gone back."
"I could."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Jackson started the engine.
"Because somebody needs me more."
They continued.
At 5:37, the motorcycle began making a strange noise.
Jackson heard it immediately.
He slowed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
"Something's loose."
They pulled onto the shoulder.
Jackson inspected the bike.
A bolt on the passenger foot peg had worked loose.
He tightened it.
Beatrice watched.
"You always carry tools?"
"Always."
"Why?"
"Because something always breaks."
She smiled.
"Sounds like life."
Jackson looked at her.
"Exactly."
They got back on.
Five minutes later, the motorcycle wouldn't start.
Jackson turned the key.
Nothing.
Beatrice looked at him.
"That's bad."
Jackson nodded.
"That's bad."
He opened the side cover.
The battery connection had loosened.
He tightened it.
The engine came alive.
Beatrice laughed.
Jackson shook his head.
"Don't celebrate yet."
"Why?"
"We still have twenty minutes."