“You want honesty or comfort?”
Sully stared.
“Honesty.”
“Then most.”
Leo found repair material in a sealed cabinet left behind by whoever abandoned the station and reinforced the damaged area enough to make the casing temporarily serviceable.
He refused to treat the work as permanent.
“This is a get-you-out repair.”
“Where?”
“Nearest town.”
“How fast?”
“Not fast.”
Sully grinned.
“You always boss people around when you fix their bikes?”
“My dad did.”
“Good man.”
The entire process took longer than Leo promised.
Nearly two hours.
The desert became completely black outside.
At one point Sully grew lightheaded and sat against the old workbench.
Leo stopped working.
“You need to clean that shoulder.”
“Bike first.”
“No.”
Sully looked surprised.
Leo found the station’s old first-aid cabinet.
Most contents were useless, but Sully had supplies in his jacket.
Leo helped him wrap the injury more securely.
“You done this before?”
Leo said nothing.
Sully noticed.
“What happened to your ribs?”
Leo stiffened.
“What?”
“You move like one side hurts.”
“I fell.”
“Where?”
Leo returned to the motorcycle.
Sully understood the conversation was over.
He let it go.
Another forty minutes passed.
Leo finally sat back.
“That’s all I can do.”
Sully looked at the motorcycle.
“Moment of truth?”
“Don’t rev it.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“It isn’t.”
Sully mounted the Road King.
Turned the key.
The starter engaged.
The engine coughed.
Leo’s heart sank.
Then the second cylinder caught.
The V-twin came alive.
The garage exploded with sound.