A heavy silence settled down. Kearns could feel it in his shoulders.
The second gunman of the pair waited out there, somewhere near the pumps or inside the station, or circling around the other side of the building. Kearns imagined him crawling closer, or with his feet up, calling for more men.
He couldn’t stay here. He shifted, moving slowly. Getting his feet under him, stopping between movements to listen. Kearns figured the odds of him surviving were better on the road. He’d gotten the jump on one of them, but that just meant the other would be more careful.