Ben had been driving all day and didn't want to stop again. I leaned my head against the window and stayed quiet. My eyes were covered with sunglasses, so I was expected to sleep most of the day.
We pulled into another motel. He put his hands on my shoulders and shook my body gently. "Honey, we're stopping for the night," he told me.
I sit up straight and stretch my shoulders. I followed Ben as he got out of the car. As we walked into the hall, he put his arm around my shoulders.
An old man speaking broken English was working behind a desk. Ben asked for room 16 and paid cash again.
We took out our bags and climbed the rusty metal stairs to our room. I put my bag on the foot of the bed. I grabbed the remote which was on top of the TV. I sat down next to my bag and flipped through the channels. Ben walked past me and into the bathroom. I logged into the news channel. They were discussing the weather, and my knees shook as I waited for the topic to change.
My graduation photo appeared on the screen again. I leaned closer to listen to them and put my sunglasses on top of my head.
"The search for Diana and Benjamin remains ongoing," the news anchor said. "Diana disappeared six weeks ago and was pronounced dead in a car accident five weeks ago. Benjamin was the prime suspect in the murders of his mother and sister three years ago. Benjamin was also pronounced dead shortly after a car accident.
"Benjamin's fingerprints were found at the scene of Bethany's murder on Wednesday morning. Diana's fingerprints were found at the scene where Bethany's fiancé Oliver Sweeney was murdered. Presumably, Ben and Diana were supposed to be together. "
Ben came and stopped when he saw the news channel. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. As he sat down next to me, he put his arm around my waist and snatched the remote control from my hand. He turned off the TV and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Don't look at that," he said. "You don't have to worry about that."
"Why do they say we are dead?" I asked.
"That's what doctors do," Ben said. "They stopped searching for us and said we died in a car accident. It was so brutal that our bodies were unrecognizable. They usually said our bodies were completely burnt. That way they didn't need to send the bodies to the funeral."
"But they know we're alive now."
Ben pressed his lips into a thin line. He twirled a strand of my hair between his fingers.
"Soon it will be just the two of us," he said. "At the same time, we have to disguise ourselves."
He kissed my cheek before getting out of bed. He wrapped his fingers around mine and pulled me up with him. He dug into a suitcase and pulled out a wad of cash. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. I could see a flash of metal and I knew it was the gun protruding from his waistband. His jacket quickly covered it again.
"Let's go get something," he said. "I saw a gas station on the side of the road."
I nodded. Ben squeezed my hand tighter. He lowered his sunglasses and let them return to my face. Ben held me tightly as we left the hotel room. The streets are lined with fast food restaurants and small hotels. There are many cars coming in and out of the gas station.
Ben didn't let me go, while collecting snacks, a pair of sunglasses, and a box of hair dye. He walked up and down the aisles, grabbing items like a bag of scissors, a hoodie and more food. Ben paid and dragged me back to my hotel room.
"Sorry, dinner was mostly cookies and peanuts," Ben said, taking everything out of his bag and placing them on the bed.
"Can't we stop somewhere and get something to eat?" I asked.
"No, we have other things to do tonight."
He handed me a pack of scissors. I looked down at them, then back at Ben. "You need to change your hair style," he said.
"I can't cut my hair," I said.
"I like your long hair too, Diana," he said. "You have to do it. It will grow back."
"We—"
"Dee, you either cut your hair or dye it."
I looked back at the scissors. He is right. If I cut my hair it will grow back. If I dyed my hair blonde, it would grow out badly. I chose the lesser of two evils and took the scissors into the bathroom.
I put my glasses on the counter. With great difficulty I tore open the package. When I was done, I grabbed a handful of hair with my hands. I started cutting off that thick hair. My hands kept slipping and it was hard to keep the scissors straight. I started cutting my hair so it ended at my shoulders. I couldn't keep the scissors straight so I had to cut my hair shorter and shorter to get it even. By the time I was done, my hair was just below my ears. The sink was filled with my black hair.
I looked at myself in the mirror. It's hard for me to recognize myself with these eyes. My hair transformed me into a complete stranger. My ears and nose were burned. I took a deep breath to stop myself from crying, but a few tears escaped. I covered my mouth, trying to hide my sobs.
Ben paced around the motel room. He knocked lightly on the door before opening it. I buried my face in my hands.
I jumped when Ben's arm slipped around my waist. Ben rested his head on my shoulder. I wiped my cheek with the heel of my hand. Ben pulled me against his chest.
"You still look beautiful," he said. "I don't look like myself," I said.
"That's what we need right now."
He pressed his lips to the base of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. A few more tears rolled down my cheeks. I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him off me. His fingers curled around my waist. I wanted to keep fighting against his grasp, but instead I imagined the gun in his belt.
People are looking for me. I absolutely cannot die now.
I spun around in Ben's arms. I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away, putting a little distance between us. Ben cupped my face in his hands. He ran his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears. I forced myself to smile at him, my lips quivering.
"I'm really tired," I said. "I just want to go to sleep."
"Okay," he said, then leaned in and kissed me. "Your things are in my bag and I'll clean the bathroom."
I nodded. When Ben let me go, the tension in my chest eased. I put on the shirt Ben gave me last night and crawled into bed. I tangled my fingers in the soft ends of my new short hair and fell asleep.
I opened my eyes when I heard curses. I yawned and put the roots of my hands into my eyes. I pushed myself up with one hand. I squinted and saw Ben standing in front of the mirror hanging next to the TV. A lamp was on, bringing a faint glow to the room. He had taken off his shirt and was poking at the scaly skin on his ribs. I reached for my glasses on the bedside table.
"Ben, what are you doing?" I asked. "Go back to bed, Diana," he said.
I threw the blanket off my legs, slid out of bed, and walked over to Ben. He ran his fingers over the top of a flaky scale. The skin around the patch becomes red and inflamed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I told you to go back to bed," he said.
"It's infected," I said. "Isn't it?"
The nursing textbook Oliver had me read had lots of pictures of infections. They looked swollen and red at first, much like Ben's skin. "I don't know," he said.
"You need to see a doctor"
"That's impossible," he said. "Go back to bed."
"You know it's only going to get worse."
Ben snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed.
"Go to bed, Diana," he said.
I bit my lip and went back to bed. If Ben didn't treat the infection, I knew it would weaken him and possibly even kill him. That way, I can escape smoothly.
Ben turned off the light and crawled back into bed. He turned me over so that I was lying on his chest. He hummed softly, and I knew I was lying on his bright red skin.
He shifted our position so that we were lying on our sides.
I fell back to sleep wondering how long it would take for this infection to spread.
