6 Hours Away Novels & Stories

Over and over. We didn’t leave the garage for six hours.

I blurted. "Noted." he acknowledged my address. "How long do you think it will take me to get to Numan from here?" I asked. "It will take you 15 hours at most to get back to Numan." he replied. "And it will take me 6 hours from here to get to Greenland." Trevor said. I heaved a deep sigh and yawned. "I can't believe I'm feeling sleepy after sleeping for hours earlier." I said and yawned again.

“Tomorrow’s Monday.” “I know. But I’m going to Tahitian for…” “Just a few days,” she whispered. “A week.” She jumped around her chair, freaking out with excitement as he grinned into the phone, “Joan and I are going to get to know each other.” Nate laughed and told the others, “They’re going to Tahitian.” Danny’s voice was stern. “Tahitian is eighteen hours away.” “How do you know that?” Darrell asked. “Never mind.”

" He turned to leave. “Henry.” The word left my mouth before I even meant to speak it. He paused, turning back, brow raised. “Yeah?” “Where’s the HUB bar?” I asked, steadying my breath. “Around here, I mean.” He squinted. “HUB? It's near the city, about an hour's drive from here. From there, it's another forty minutes to the city itself." A pit opened in my stomach. An hour away. I nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

Luis said with a smile. I chuckled at him and put my hand out to shake his. We shook and finished our meal before throwing our trash away. The three of us got back into the truck and I brought up my GPS. I pressed home and saw how far we had to go. My home was sixteen and a half hours away from here. That was a long ass drive. If I was alone, I could do that in a day, possibly two, but with the extra passengers and the horses, it wouldn't work.

“In six hours.” “Perfect.” I smiled.

To not give Nate any more reason to build his case. I made it exactly six hours.

It means no one is leaving any time soon. Beside me, Sterling shifts for what must be the tenth time. His fingers tap once against the armrest before he stills them. “Six hours,” he says quietly. I do not look at him. I do not answer. A moment later, he leans closer. For the first time, a crack shows through his easy manner. “Should we try contacting them once?” he murmurs. “This is going to take forever.” I ignore him. The longer it takes, the longer she sits with it.

“A month and two weeks away!” No.

"Standard process, six weeks. Expedited, with the right people contacted tonight, three days." I pressed my thumb and forefinger against my eyes for a moment. The landscape moved outside the windows, dark and fast, the motorway opening up as we hit the city approach roads. Three days was not within twenty-four hours.