The truck bounced over the broken highway, its old suspension groaning as they descended into the valley. The morning fog was beginning to thin, revealing stretches of gray farmland and collapsed utility poles.
For the first time in weeks, the world almost looked peaceful. Almost.
Riku kept both hands on the wheel, eyes scanning the road ahead. "Fuel's halfway," he muttered.
Suzune, riding shotgun, checked the map folded on her lap. "If we stay on Route 19, we'll reach Matsumoto by nightfall."
Ichika yawned in the backseat, a rifle across her knees. "That's assuming no one—or nothing—decides to welcome us first."
Hana hugged her stuffed rabbit and looked out the window. The world outside passed like an endless graveyard of steel and vines. "Do you think there are nice people there?"
"Maybe," Riku said. "We'll find out soon."
