The road narrowed into a tunnel of trees.Branches clawed at the sides of the truck, scraping against the metal as if trying to pull them back. The afternoon sun struggled to pierce through the canopy, leaving only thin streaks of gold that flickered over their faces like firelight.
No one spoke.
Riku kept his eyes forward. The steering wheel trembled in his hands every time the tires hit loose gravel. He was used to it by now—the constant vibration, the low hum of the old diesel engine, the occasional cough that reminded him it was running on borrowed time.
Suzune watched the treeline through her window. Her finger hovered over the trigger guard of her rifle, safety off. "No birds," she muttered.
Ichika glanced out her own side. "That's your way of saying something's wrong again, isn't it?"
"When the forest's quiet, something's listening," Suzune said flatly.
Hana hugged her rabbit tighter, eyes on the passing trees. "Maybe they're just hiding."
"Maybe," Riku said quietly.
