Sully listened without interrupting. Every few minutes he looked toward the highway, and once he moved to the garage entrance and stood perfectly still for so long that Leo thought somebody might be approaching. When he came back, Leo saw the dark patch on his shoulder had spread. He fetched the cleanest cloth he owned and a sealed bottle of water he had been saving, then handed both to Sully without mentioning what they cost him.
"That water yours?" Sully asked. Leo nodded. "You're giving me the last of it?"
"You need to clean that cut," Leo replied. "It's not doing you any good bleeding into your jacket." Sully's expression hardened in a way that looked almost like embarrassment. He accepted the bottle, cleaned what he could, and handed back the remainder. "We'll get you more before this night's over," he said.
Leo returned to the engine. The damaged fuel line would need replacing, and he found a usable length of compatible tubing and fittings among the station's abandoned hardware only after checking that the material would not introduce another hazard. The primary cover was more difficult. He could not properly replace a cracked casting in a powerless garage, and the improvised electrical arc he briefly considered would have been reckless beside fuel residue and a leaking engine.
Daniel's voice surfaced in his memory, exact and irritating. A bad repair does not become a good repair because you are in a hurry. Leo sat back on his heels, studied the damage again, and told Sully the truth: he could make the motorcycle safe enough to move a short distance under limited power if they were careful, but it would need a proper workshop before being ridden any farther. That was not the answer Sully wanted, and the older man's eyes narrowed.
"I've got people waiting for me," Sully said. "Some of them don't know I'm alive."
"Then call them," Leo replied. "If you ride this hard on a bad cover, you may not make it to the first town. I'm not going to tell you I fixed something I didn't." Sully stared at him as if deciding whether courage and stupidity were the same quality in a boy this thin. Finally he reached into his vest, took out a phone with a cracked screen, and frowned when it showed no service.
"Nearest ridge gets reception," Leo said. "I tried when I first got here. There's a mile or so of road toward the highway where the ground rises." Sully looked at the fading light and then at his wound. "Can't leave the bike," he muttered.
"I'll stay with it," Leo answered before considering what that promise might entail. A beat passed. "If you're worried I'll steal it, you can take the key."
The idea made Sully laugh properly for the first time. "Kid, if you can push a machine that weighs more than you down that road without me hearing, you deserve it." He shook his head and remained beside the workbench. "We'll solve one problem at a time."