"Yeah, 'cause gravel roads'd fuck up all my hard work," she says, taking a shot in the dark. She opens the hood of the car and pours the liquid in-- it's easy going with a ketchup bottle. She hasn't seen a funnel since Kentucky, but she doesn't need one, for once. It's basically a miracle.

She closes the hood slowly, careful not to make any extra noise. "Start her up," she says, assuming he knows how to hotwire a car. Most people do, these days. Most living people.

She wonders if he can, one-handed.