The dawn came gray and wide, the highway stretching endless before them. Mara pulled her rig alongside his, CB crackling between them.
"You're ready for the next mile," she said. "But the Freights won't let you coast. They're coming harder. And next time, it won't be scouts. It'll be a Convoy."
Rook tightened his grip on the wheel. His heart beat in rhythm with the engine. The Road whispered in his veins.
For the first time, he didn't feel like he was running.
He felt like he was hunting.
And the highway ahead promised blood.