Elias felt the road before he saw it change.
Not the asphalt…that stayed the same. It was a long scar south cutting through the fields of weeds and cornrows with pot holes big enough to bury a body in.
But the change was in the way the air thickened with heat and metal.
Zubair eased their speed a breath and, without glancing back, nudged the truck half a lane to the right. It was the kind of correction that said he didn't like what he smelled up ahead.
"Talk to me," Lachlan said, his voice too bright and cheery to be anything but happy.
Elias didn't answer him.
He angled the side mirror with two fingers until the glass held more horizon than cab, then tipped his chin toward Sera.
Blood had dried on her knuckles in a brown shine; her expression had the looseness of someone who'd finally eaten after a long fast.
