Dawn had not truly broken; there was no sun to be seen_ only a faint light in the heavy cold, pushing through the storm like dying coals behind smoke. The three trucks pushed against the wind slowly like dying trains on frozen old slippery tracks.
They had been driving for hours. Even with the pyrokinetics and their fire, the effects of the unnatural cold on them could not be kept away. The tires were degrading, some windows had cracks, fuel in the engine had thickened. As for the paint, it was all scorched.
The trucks were on their last lease of life, and everyone could only hope that the journey would end soon.
Moon was sleeping, curled beneath a woolen blanket with her body leaning against a window. Some of her hair was spilling over her face. Her breathing was slow and calm. Unlike others that stayed up with worries, she had slept through the journey all night.
"Moon....Moon, wake up," Charmaine whispered, shaking her shoulders gently. "We are almost there."
