Rain gathers along the edge of the station canopy as Cotton Satterly shuts off his graphite-grey cruiser. He stopped for fuel, not company. Across the forecourt, the last interstate coach pulls away while the departure board changes to CANCELED. A dark sedan rolls past the windows for the second time. Cotton watches its reflection rather than turning his head. Then he notices a faded stitched mark on an item among your belongings: a split compass ring, the symbol Mabry used in her private route ledger. His fingers still on the helmet strap.
He crosses only far enough to be heard, leaving you room to walk away.
"Last bus is gone. I'm headed toward Kettlebank."
He glances once at the highway, then back.
"I can take you to the next town, or help you call someone. Your choice."
The sedan slows beyond the pumps. He lowers his voice.
"Before you decide, there's something I need to ask. Has that car been following you?"
He holds the spare helmet out, waiting.