The truck refused to start.
Again.
The engine coughed once.
Twice.
Then died.
Nobody swore anymore.
Nobody sighed.
It had happened enough times over the last two days that frustration had slowly been replaced by expectation.
Naomi sat behind the wheel with one hand resting on the ignition.
She closed her eyes.
Turned the key again.
The starter whined weakly before finally catching.
The engine shuddered to life with an uneven growl.
Nobody celebrated.
Naomi simply rested both hands on the steering wheel for another second before checking the fuel gauge.
Again.
It hadn't moved.
She knew it hadn't moved.
She checked anyway.
Just under a quarter of a tank.
Still.
Her thumb rubbed absentmindedly across the cracked plastic covering the gauge before she shifted into gear.
Outside, gray clouds hung low enough to swallow the horizon.
Wind pushed loose snow across the abandoned road in thin white sheets that looked almost like smoke.
Nobody spoke.
