The truck made its way across the asphalt with post haste. Hale drove.
The engine rolled steady under us, tired but still holding. The road ahead stretched out in cracked, faded lines that disappeared into heat haze and distance, like the world itself was trying to erase where anything had ever mattered.
Every bump in the asphalt sent a dull vibration through the fra, tal rattling softly in places that probably shouldn’t have rattled at all.
With a cigarette in his mouth, he drew a plu of smoke outside the half open window on his side.
The smoke curled outward, caught in the wind, then ripped apart almost instantly as if even the air didn’t want to hold onto it.
It left that burnt, bitter sll hanging for a mont before it thinned out and was gone.
None of us didn’t really know anything about cars. We made it work, though.
It wasn’t precision driving. It was survival driving. Listening to the engine like it was another person you didn’t fully trust. Feeling for when it sounded wrong instead of knowing why.
Every now and then Hale’s hand adjusted the wheel slightly, correcting without thinking, like muscle mory had replaced certainty a long ti ago.
So people at the back had taken themselves back to sleep.
Not sothing I was particularly fond of...mainly because I wanted us to still be on the alert in case those freaks caught up to us.
Bodies shifted occasionally behind us. A jacket falling. A quiet breath. The faint creak of tal when soone turned in their seat. It wasn’t restful sleep. It was exhaustion pretending to be safety.
I tried to look straight ahead as I felt Hale’s gaze on .
I kept my eyes fixed on the road, even though there wasn’t anything to actually focus on. Just distance. Just decay. Just movent forward without aning.
I instinctively turned over my wrists, hiding the marks Lila left.
The skin still felt tender under my sleeves. Not pain exactly. More like pressure that refused to go away. I adjusted my grip on myself without thinking, like I could physically push the mory back down into my body.
But Hale noticed. I know he did.
He always noticed things like that. He just didn’t always act like he did.
He just...wasn’t gonna say anything—
Or at least maybe that’s what I thought.
A long pause stretched between us. Not awkward. Just full.
"What happened there?" He asked.
His voice ca out low, flat, almost casual. Like he was asking about weather that didn’t matter but still existed anyway.
I froze for a bit.
Not dramatic. Just still. Like my brain needed a second to decide whether the question was worth answering honestly.
Then I looked at him, almost dumbfounded at his question.
"Why do you care?" I asked, genuinely.
It wasn’t defensive. It was confusion more than anything. Like I couldn’t reconcile the idea that this was the thing he had chosen to notice.
Because I never would’ve thought...
He frowned, turning around. His eyes focused on the rear view mirror briefly at Lila sleeping.
Or perhaps...she was pretending to be.
Her posture didn’t change. But there was sothing about it that didn’t fully commit to rest. Like even sleep had beco sothing strategic.
I didn’t even know anymore.
"There’s a lot of stuff I care about, Adrian." He finally said to .
He didn’t look at when he said it. He kept his attention on the road, cigarette shifting slightly as he spoke. But the words still landed heavier than I expected them to.
My heart skipped a beat.
I felt my ears go red.
Obviously...not in like— not in a gay way...it was kinda like a father showing affection to their son after a long ti in silence.
But at the sa ti— I didn’t really know how to feel about it.
It wasn’t sothing I had a category for. Not in this world. Not anymore.
I always knew Hale as soone who just sat back and watched.
I realized how much he changed when he first officially had a talk with .
Now?
Now it’s probably gonna be worse.
"It’s nothing, man." I finally said.
My voice ca out faster than I ant it to. Like I was trying to close the topic before it could beco sothing heavier.
"Just a little accident."
I said, almost foolishly at that.
Hale simply looked at .
"Accident," he muttered under his breath.
Not judgnt. Not agreent either. Just a quiet repetition like he was filing it away sowhere for later.
But he never really pressed further.
For a mont, things were...silent.
The engine filled the space again. Tires humd over asphalt. Wind pressed against the sides of the truck like it was trying to get inside.
"Hey, Hale?" I began.
He just smoked without looking at .
"I wanna talk to you about Callahan."
That got a shift. Subtle, but there.
"What about him?" He said with a low voice.
Still calm. But more present now.
I paused for a mont.
There really was a lot...
mories I was going to have to force myself to recall.
Texas didn’t feel like sothing I rembered. It felt like sothing that still hadn’t finished happening.
...honestly, anything was better than sitting in silence and recounting what Lila had done to a few hours ago.
I just never wanted to think about it.
Not even for a little bit.
"He’s alive." I said, stating the obvious.
Hale nodded, a plu of smoke escaping from his mouth.
"He is."
"And now he’s probably chasing us.." I said.
Hale looked at then.
Not surprised. Just confirming I wasn’t panicking without reason.
"And you’re worried?"
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know if it was worry. Or certainty.
"Infected or not, he’s still just a man."
I frowned at that, a weight settling in my stomach.
The words should’ve made sense. They should’ve grounded things.
They didn’t.
Because I’d seen what "just a man" could turn into when everything else fell apart.
But I didn’t argue against it.
"I know," I said.
"But that girl...the one who was with him."
"The blonde one." He said.
"Her." I agreed.
He sighed at that, one hand on the wheel.
Not annoyed. Just...asuring sothing.
"Honestly I’d never seen you miss like that."
My eyebrows furrowed.
"I didn’t miss—..." I said, my voice defensive.
The words ca out too fast. Too certain.
"She just dodged them."
The sentence hung there imdiately after.
Even I could hear how it sounded.
Hale looked at then.
"You an to tell that half naked infected lady managed to dodge sothin’ going over 300 miles per hour? More than once?"
His tone was dry. Not mocking exactly. Just skeptical in a way that didn’t leave room for ego.
It made feel stupid saying it out loud.
Because it’s what I saw happened.
"Yes, Hale. I’m telling you. She’s not fucking normal."
He looked back on the road.
"None of them are."
"No, she...she really isn’t. She should’ve shot , Hale. Instead she just— she threw away her weapon and showed off so weird military martial arts style."
I gestured slightly with my hands as I spoke, like the motion could make it make sense.
"Getting all close to ."
"She even told so shit about wanting to see beg."
Hale smiled at that.
Small. Almost amused.
"Yeah? Well maybe she likes you."
I scoffed, allowing myself a laugh.
"Don’t even do that shit, man.."
It was the first mont of anything close to normal since everything started.
Yet, before we could bask in the mont—
Hale abruptly stopped.
Not gradual. Not warned.
Just brake pressure and weight shifting forward.
In front of us, was a horse carcass.
Infected around it...doing...
God, I don’t even wanna fucking say it.
The truck idled.
Nobody moved.
We just sat for a while, looking at the scene. I had almost puked in my mouth.
Then— I finally spoke.
"They seem busy..." I said.
"Just drive around."
Hale pressed the gas pedal, turning the steering wheel as we drove past the scene.
The infected didn’t even look up.
That was the worst part.
Maybe it’s about ti I took a nap as well.
—
Far away, the house in Illinois was not quiet in the sa way the truck was.
It was quieter than that.
Controlled.
Contained.
Adira ca to slowly.
Her wrists hurt first.
Then her head.
Then everything else.
The chair was the thing that made sense before anything else did.
Wood. Rope. Pressure against her skin.
She tried to move and imdiately stopped.
Carl was nearby.
Tied as well.
Not looking at her.
That alone was enough to tell her not to speak.
The house looked wrong.
Not abandoned.
Not safe.
Occupied.
Not by them anymore.
Movent ca from the hallway.
Not rushed.
asured.
Like soone walking through a place they owned.
Adira forced her breathing to slow.
Carl still didn’t look up.
Then footsteps stopped in the doorway.
A woman stood there.
Not infected in the way she expected.
Not broken. Not feral.
Clean clothes. Controlled posture. Calm face.
Too calm.
Behind her, others stood.
Not crowded. Positioned.
Watching.
Guarding.
Adira felt sothing cold settle in her chest.
The woman looked at them for a mont like she was evaluating furniture.
Then she smiled slightly.
"You’re finally awake."
Adira didn’t respond.
The woman stepped further in.
Set a walkie-talkie on the table between them.
Static crackled faintly through it.
Adira recognized it imdiately.
Carl shifted slightly beside her.
The woman noticed.
"Soone’s been trying to reach you," she said.
No emotion in it.
Just fact.
She tapped the radio once with her finger.
"Lots of tis, actually."
Silence followed.
Adira’s throat tightened.
The woman tilted her head slightly, studying her reaction.
Then she spoke again.
"You should understand sothing."
A pause.
Then, simple and certain:
"We run this place now."
Adira’s brows furrowed.
"And if you don’t want to get yourselves, or anyone else here killed...atleast for now—...I’d suggest you do exactly what I say."
She cooed with finality.
With that, Carl finally lowered his head.
Not in defeat.
In understanding.
Outside the house, sothing moved past the window.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not searching.
Patrolling.
And the radio on the table crackled once more—
still unanswered.
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