Running on fumes

“We’re gonna run out of petrol, aren’t we?” Anna said for the fourth bloody time, eyeing the gauge.

“Relax. It looks empty, but it’s not.”

Paul gave her a reassuring smile, but his heart was pounding. He’d sailed past the last servo confident there’d be another soon enough. But where was it? It would be bad enough, he thought, getting stuck on the side of the road in the dark.

The palaver! Worse, though, would be the leverage – and perverted satisfaction – it would give Anna.

Sweat running down his back, Paul leaned on the accelerator and hoped for the best.

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