*Kael's POV*
The gas pump clicked for the third time, refusing to dispense any more fuel. I yanked it from the truck's tank with more force than necessary, my jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
"Piece of shit," I muttered, glaring at the ancient pump.
My skin felt too tight. Every sound—from the buzzing fluorescent lights to the chatter of the elderly couple at the next pump—grated against my nerves like sandpaper. The convenience store's neon sign flickered erratically, each flash sending a spike of irritation through my skull.
Six miles back, I'd passed a sign for "Pete's Gas & Grocery – Last Stop for 50 Miles!" Now I understood why this decrepit station still had customers.
I slammed the gas cap closed and stalked toward the convenience store. The bell jangled as I pushed through the door, drawing the attention of the lone clerk—a pimple-faced teenager who couldn't be more than eighteen.
