Chemicals

9

The car rumbles along the cracked highway, its engine struggling against the uneven pavement. I sit in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the world rushes by in a blur of faded signs, overgrown trees, and abandoned cars, their rusting frames now part of the landscape. The sun's setting, casting long shadows across the road, and for the first time in a while, I feel the weight of the day settling into my bones.

Ethan's hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he focuses on the road ahead. No one's spoken much since we left. Carmen sits in the back, fiddling with the crowbar across her lap, her eyes scanning the horizon like she's expecting trouble. Frank is beside her, the map spread out on his knees, but it's mostly for show now. There's only one way to go, and we all know it.

The silence feels thick, like a blanket pressing down on us, and I shift in my seat, the tension creeping into my shoulders. Every so often, I catch Ethan glancing at the rearview mirror, checking to see if we're still alone on this road, but there's nothing. Just empty fields and broken fences.

"How much further?" Frank finally asks, his voice breaking through the quiet like a crack of thunder.

Ethan clears his throat. "Another hour, maybe two. We're making decent time."

Carmen sighs softly, leaning back against the seat. "Feels like we've been driving forever."

I glance over at Ethan, noticing the way his jaw clenches. "We can stop soon if we need to," I offer. "Stretch our legs."

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "We keep going. The less time we spend out here, the better."

I nod, but my chest tightens. I know he's right, but I can feel the exhaustion seeping into my bones. The thought of Ivy's base, of whatever waits for us in the mountains, hangs over us like a cloud. I still don't trust her, and the longer we drive, the more I question if we're making the right choice. But what other option do we have?

The road bends slightly, curving around a small hill, and for a moment, the trees thicken, their shadows stretching across the car like dark fingers. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. "How much gas do we have left?" I ask quietly, breaking the silence again.

"Enough to get there," Ethan replies, though he doesn't sound completely sure. His eyes flick to the fuel gauge, but he doesn't say anything else.

Carmen shifts in her seat, her voice low but pointed. "We better hope Ivy's telling the truth, or this is gonna be a long, dangerous trip for nothing."

I don't respond, because I've been thinking the same thing. The car falls silent again, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional bump of the tires over cracks in the road. The sun's lower now, sinking behind the horizon, turning the sky a bruised shade of purple. The temperature's dropping too, the cool air seeping in through the cracks in the car's windows.

I glance over at Ethan, who's still gripping the wheel like his life depends on it. "You okay?" I ask softly.

He nods but doesn't look at me. "Just want to make it there before nightfall."

I can hear the worry in his voice. We've been lucky so far, but nighttime brings more than just cold air. There's no telling who—or what—might be lurking in the shadows, waiting for stragglers like us.

Frank speaks up again, his tone more relaxed than it should be. "You know, if this were a road trip before all this happened, we'd probably be fighting over the radio or something."

Carmen lets out a dry laugh. "Yeah, and stopping for snacks at every gas station."

"Or getting lost because someone refused to follow directions," I add, remembering a trip I took with my brother years ago. The memory makes me smile, but it's fleeting, gone as quickly as it came.