“Just say yes, say you’ll marry me,” Justin gasped.

Speaking was difficult, getting softer.

“Honey, where’s your phone? We need help. I need your phone.”

Rebecca looked into the glove compartment. It was empty. Most things were on the roof anyway, and it was too dark to see anything there except for the reflection of the moon in the growing pool of blood. It was quiet now that the front wheels had stopped spinning needlessly on their axel.

“Marry me…” he said again, repeating slowly.

Her waist was sore from the seatbelt pressed into her, holding her up. She tried reaching for Justin’s pocket but her arm was caught on something. Or not moving. She couldn’t tell which.

“Justin, honey, where is your phone! We need help! Justin!”

She never found it, but the phone was in his pocket. Its battery was drained.