And we ended up walking because the motorcycle ran out of gas before we reached the station. I left the motorcycle on the side of the road because I didn’t want to take it with me. I’d try to call for backup. But that would still take time.

“Is that a motel?”

Fiona squinted at the large neon sign flashing in the distance.

“I think so.”

“How about we go there and call for help? That cloth is soaked with your blood. Your wound needs to be stitched or at least bandaged ...