Jaz held up the unopened packet.
“What do you want us to do?” Erica asked, frowning at the sandwich packet.
“It’s so hot,” Jaz whispered, holding the back of her hand to her burning forehead.
“Would you like me to pull over?” came the sound of Driver’s velvety bass voice.
Jaz looked at the back of his head between her half closed lids, not moving from her spot as she dug the back of her skull into her headrest.
“No,” her aunt cut in a little fiercely. “We’re nearly there now. There’s not much point in stopping.”
“How much longer?” Jaz croaked, her eyes closed.
Erica shot Driver a look that Jaz didn't see.
He glared at Erica in the rear view mirror then let out a low sigh. “We should be there in fifteen minutes. If there’s no traffic.”
Jaz groaned knowing that answer was relative. Those fifteen minutes could double or triple or… she didn’t want to think of it. She just tried to breathe even, controlled breaths hoping that was enough to stop the vomit shooting up.
“I will do what I can to get you there in that time,” Driver said in a stern voice.
She glanced up at the mirror to find him watching her with a determined glint in his eyes. The fierceness of it startled her for a moment. The fire in her belly roared and she swallowed hard to try and hold it back with a ball of saliva. It worked, this time. She looked away from him and lightly bobbed her head in response.
Those last minutes of the journey were hell on earth. Driver kept to his promise, racing down the country lanes on the last ten miles of the journey. The only problem with that was that the bumps and curves of the narrow country road made it even harder to hold her vomit down. Her sweating was becoming unbearable. Her head was pounding. She could hear her heartbeat and the pumping of blood in her ears. She felt like she going to die.
Correction: she wanted to die.
She couldn’t make out the scenery around her. It blurred in her weak vision so she kept her eyes closed. She couldn’t do anything about the sudden fever. The window was all the way down but it didn’t help.
She glanced down at her phone, poking out of her open bag. 2:28 p.m. Nearly four hours in the car. It had been ten minutes since she’d told them about her sickness.
She would have jumped for joy if she’d had the energy when they finally slowed and pulled into a dirt road surrounded by forest on both sides. The road was long and bumpy but ran pretty straight. She looked ahead, praying that she’d somehow make it to a place she could puke in peace. She couldn’t see the spa resort building from the road. It must have been on the downhill slope. The road went up steadily but it was enough to conceal whatever was beyond.
She stared out the window as blurred, luminous green trees flew by. Driver had slowed down to about thirty miles per hour but her stomach acid was racing at a rapid speed. She had to get out. She needed to get out, right now.
“Stop the car,” she pleaded quietly.
“Darling, we’re nearly there just hold on,” Erica began.
“I’m gonna puke, pull over.”
“What?” Erica asked.
Jaz became desperate and angry. “Pull over! Now!”
Driver slammed on the brakes and she thrust herself against the door as she pulled the handle. The door stayed put. Locked. She was about to snap at Driver but the sound of the lock clicking open stopped her. She jumped out and got as close to the forest as she could, facing away from the car before she puked her guts out.
The burning acid was disgusting and painful as it went up her throat and out her mouth. Her chest heaved, her stomach ached. She puked until there was nothing left but stomach acid. On the last few smaller explosions of sick, she collapsed onto her hands and knees and coughed the remains of it up. The air was suffocating as the afternoon heat mixed with the hot stench of sick. If she’d had anything left in her she’d have vomited again. Instead, she gagged and gradually controlled herself with heavy, slow breaths until she felt empty and weightless.
Driver had got out and was leaning awkwardly against the car, having been unsure of what level of comfort would seem normal to provide. Instead, he’d decided being out of the car would show he had mild concern, somewhere safe between indifference and his true feelings of anxiety and frustration for her suffering.
Bo was stood on the other side of the car, with his elbows rested on the roof. He watched with an inquisitive expression.
Jaz heard her aunt approach, then stop a few feet behind her. Jaz guessed it was to give her some space and she appreciated it.