"Do you…"
The ground under them began to shake, and she slammed on the brakes, jerking them to a stop. Eyes wide, she started to get out as the vibrations increased.
Marc put a gentle hand on her wrist, "Wait. If it gets worse, we'll get out. Watch for big cracks."
His touch was soothing, exciting. He let go slowly, feeling her interest, and she sighed.
The ground under them rumbled and swayed, shifting nearby debris piles, and from the distance came the distinctive sounds of buildings collapsing, and telltale plumes of dust rising.
The shaking eased gradually, quieted over a period of maybe a minute, before finally going still. Angela looked at Marc, who was busy studying the map like nothing had happened. "Should we go on?
"Yeah, just stop if it starts again. Always stay clear of anything that can fall on you and watch for cracks. They open up fast."
Angela eased back on the pedal, her mind shocked to find out that the fault line under St. Louis was not only there, but now active. They had felt other tremors of course, but not while driving, and not this strong. In the Midwest, the big one hadn't come yet, but things were warming up.
They listened to Pink Floyd as she drove over weedy, debris-littered streets, rolling around the abandoned cars with indecipherable notes now mildewed to their dashboards, and the conversation was about anything other than the destruction all around them. Mother Nature was clearly the cause here.
Marc's heart was aching. Time had begun to look very short for them, and though he could say they were true friends again, he wasn't sure if there was more. She had been keeping the space between them since waking up in his arms in front of the burned-out fire, one of the best memories for him from the whole trip. She had been so peaceful in his embrace, so relaxed (sexy), and he was feeling discouraged. Appearing to look back at Dog, who was curled up contentedly on the backseat, he stole another look at her profile as she drove. She was still so far out of reach he didn't think he'd ever have a real chance with her again, but that didn't stop the want.
Angela could feel his hot looks, but was blocking so she didn't pick up on the exact thoughts unless he sent them to her, and she tried not to fidget or look over. She loved that he was so close, but hated it too. Her female body was acutely aware of him sitting next to her and she was reminded of a time when the mere thought of sex didn't make her cringe. She had loved to touch him, to kiss him, to run her fingers through his feathered black hair. They had stolen dark, shadowy moments of heaven, and the voices were whispering that he could conquer her fears and make her feel it again, that he could have a part in healing her that way too.