They drove through the night with Festus staying awake on a combination of coffee and conversation, and Tangeni drifted in and out of sleep in the passenger seat, and every time he woke up the landscape outside had changed just enough to let him know they were making progress toward something that might be better than what he'd left behind.
The truck was comfortable in a way that surprised him, the seat worn soft from years of use and the cab warm from the engine and the motion of the road lulling him into something close to peace.
Festus told stories to pass the time, about the mines and the road and the things he'd seen in twenty years of hauling copper across Namibia, and Tangeni listened and asked questions and felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time, which was the sense that another person actually wanted to talk to him.
"The mines are dangerous," Festus said, "but the money is good if you can handle the work, and there's always jobs for people who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty."
"Did you ever work in the mines?"
"For two years, when I was younger and stupider than I am now." Festus laughed at the memory. "Got out when I realized I'd rather be broke and whole than rich and broken."
Around dawn they stopped at another truck stop so Festus could fuel up and use the bathroom, and Tangeni stood outside stretching his legs and watching the sun come up over the flat brown landscape and feeling something he hadn't felt in years.
Hope, maybe, or something close to it, a tiny flame that had been dead for so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to have it burning inside him.
Festus came back with two cups of coffee and handed one to Tangeni without being asked, and they stood there together drinking their coffee and watching the sunrise like it was the most natural thing in the world, like they were friends instead of strangers who'd met by chance.
"I was in your position once," Festus said after a while, his voice quiet and thoughtful in the early morning air, "young and running from something I couldn't name, no plan except to get as far away as possible from where I was."
"What happened?"
"I kept running until I found something worth stopping for." Festus finished his coffee and crushed the cup in his hand. "Took me a few years and a lot of bad decisions, but I got there eventually, and now I've got a wife and two kids and a job that pays decent, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world."
"How did you know when you'd found it?"
"You just know." Festus shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Something clicks inside you and you realize that this is where you're supposed to be, and then you stop running and start building instead."
They got back in the truck and kept driving, and Festus told more stories about his life on the road to pass the time, about the places he'd been and the people he'd met and the things he'd learned about how the world worked when you were nobody special and had to make your own way.
Tangeni listened and tried to imagine what it would be like to have a life that was actually worth talking about, a life where you had stories to tell and people who wanted to hear them.
Around noon they passed through a small town with a hunter guild outpost, and Tangeni saw actual hunters for the first time since leaving the academy, real professionals with gear and abilities and the kind of confidence that came from knowing you could handle whatever the world threw at you.
They walked through the streets like they owned them, which in a way they did, because in a world with dungeons and monsters the people who could fight were the ones who mattered.
"You ever think about becoming a hunter?" Festus asked, noticing where Tangeni was looking and probably guessing what he was thinking.
"I don't have any abilities, that's why I was at Omafo in the first place, they thought I might awaken late but I never did."
"Neither do half the people who work in the industry." Festus shrugged like this was obvious and everyone should know it. "Someone's got to haul the gear and process the materials and keep the dungeons running, and those jobs pay decent if you can handle the danger and the weird hours."
Tangeni hadn't thought about it that way before, had always assumed that not having abilities meant he was useless in the hunter world, but Festus made it sound like there might be options he hadn't considered.
They drove through the afternoon and into the evening, stopping only for fuel and bathroom breaks, and Festus bought them both lunch at a roadside place that served surprisingly good chicken and rice, and Tangeni ate until he couldn't eat anymore and felt something in his chest that might have been gratitude or might have just been the unfamiliar sensation of being treated well.
By the time the sun set again they were close enough to Windhoek that Tangeni could see the glow of the city lights on the horizon, a smear of brightness against the darkening sky that meant civilization and opportunity and the chance to start over.
"I can drop you at the edge of the city," Festus said, "there's a truck yard where I have to make my delivery, but it's in an industrial area that's not safe for someone who doesn't know the city, so I'll let you off somewhere better."
"That would be perfect, thank you."
Festus reached into his pocket and pulled out a fold of bills and pressed them into Tangeni's hand before he could protest, and when Tangeni tried to give them back Festus just shook his head and smiled.
"Call it a loan," he said, "you can pay me back when you're on your feet, and if you never are then just do the same for someone else who needs it."
"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done, you didn't have to help me and you did anyway."
"You don't have to thank me for being a decent person." Festus turned his attention back to the road. "Someone did the same for me once when I was in your shoes, and I figure the best way to repay that is to pass it on whenever I get the chance."
The truck pulled over on the outskirts of the city, near a main road that led into the central districts, and the lights of Windhoek spread out below them like a glittering blanket that seemed to promise everything and nothing at the same time.
Tangeni climbed down from the cab with his bag over his shoulder and a hundred dollars in his pocket that felt like a fortune compared to what he'd had before, and he stood there looking up at Festus in the driver's seat.
"Good luck," Festus said through the window, "and remember what I told you about finding something worth stopping for."
The truck pulled away, and Tangeni stood there alone on the side of the road watching the taillights disappear into the distance, and then he turned and started walking toward the city.
Windhoek.
He'd made it, against all odds and with help he hadn't expected from a stranger he'd probably never see again.
Now he just had to figure out how to survive.