The explosion punched through the air like thunder.
Lucas's SUV swerved hard as the shockwave hit, tires screeching against the dirt.
The heat touched the back windshield, and Anton threw an arm against the dash, steadying himself as the vehicle jerked sideways.
Behind them, black smoke was already going up into the sky. Flames blazing out of the second truck in the convoy—the one Lucas had just been speaking to.
He lowered the radio slowly. His face didn't move much, but his jaw clenched and his eyes locked straight on the rising fire. No surprise. No panic. Just the weight of it.
"They're here," he said flatly.
"No shit," Anton muttered. He rolled the window down with one hand. The other was already checking the gun at his hip. Dust and smoke poured into the car like water into a sinking ship. "We're in deep now."
