Chapter 10 · Blood in the Fuel Tank

The fuel gauge sat on a quarter tank. Maybe less if the needle was lying, which it probably was. Evie kept her boot flat on the pedal anyway. The truck rattled over broken asphalt, and every bump sent a fresh jolt through her ribs where she'd slammed into the dash two days back.

Cole was wedged in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle like it might save him. His face had that tight look—half scared, half trying not to puke. Behind them, in the truck bed, nine people hung onto whatever they could. Leah was back there too, pressed against the cab wall, one hand braced on the roof.

Evie didn't look at them. If she looked, she'd think about how many bodies this thing could carry if Hammer caught up.

"How much farther?" Cole's voice cracked on the last word.

"Don't know." Evie cranked the wheel left, avoiding a crater that could swallow the front axle. "Wherever the diesel runs out, that's how far."

He didn't say anything else. Smart kid.

The radio on the dash crackled. Static, then a voice she didn't recognize. Male. Calm. That was worse than angry.

"Unmarked transport heading north on Route 9.