The bus is nearly dead in silence just the soft roar of the engines singled life. Ned focused on the stretch of highway ahead of him, cars passing by, their headlights bright in the darkness. He had forgotten his mp-3 player on the truck while loading up the gear a few hours prior and the radio never quite picked up stations that well.
Sometimes Irene would stay awake to keep him company, usually just sitting beside him not talking, but just being there was enough. She wasn't even here this evening having felt ill in Charleston the group of them insisted she take it easy for a few days. Almost like pulling teeth for her to agree, in fact it's easier to do a u-turn with nothing falling from the shelves than for her to take it easy.
Other times Carey might join the front of the bus and they would talk, joke around in the way that would a father and son could. Tonight Carey was snoring away on the couch a magazine spread across his chest.
Tonight it was a solo game, their safeties completely in his hands.