Sasha didn't slow down until the wrecked city faded behind them.
The van roared through the cracked highway, tires kicking up dust and broken glass. Her grip on the steering wheel stayed tight, eyes flicking between the road and the mirror. The last thing she needed was to see headlights following them.
"Best to move before those people call for backup," she muttered under her breath.
They had escaped with luck and loaded weapons—but luck had an expiration date. She knew how survivors worked now: smiles on the outside, greed in the eyes. The kind of greed that made people kill for canned food or a working car.
When the road finally curved into a line of burned-out vehicles, Sasha eased off the gas and parked between two rusted trucks. The van's dark shell blended perfectly into the shadows.
"I think we're safe here," she said, exhaling slowly. "We're far enough that they won't follow. And even if they do, the forest roads will lose them first."
