The Jeep moved through the dark like a held breath.
No music.No talking.Not even the low, nervous chatter that had filled the hours before.
The engine hummed steadily beneath them, tires crunching over debris, but inside the vehicle there was only the sound of breathing—careful, measured, like everyone was afraid that too much noise might break whatever fragile thing was keeping them together.
Tally hadn't spoken since she screamed.
Not a word. Not a sob. She sat rigid in her seat, staring straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. Her eyes were red but dry, like she'd already cried herself empty. Whatever was happening inside her now had turned inward—sharp and corrosive.
Mari hadn't spoken either.
She stared out the windshield, hands folded in her lap, shoulders rounded inward like she was trying to disappear. Every few minutes her fingers drifted unconsciously to her stomach, pressing lightly, protectively—then pulling away as if she'd realized what she was doing.
No one noticed.
The road stretched endlessly, weaving through neighborhoods that looked abandoned mid-thought. Cars sat crooked at intersections. Doors hung open. Holiday lights still blinked in some windows, cheerful and obscene against the emptiness.
They'd been driving for hours.
And somehow, they were still nowhere.
Ethan broke the silence first.
His voice was rough, like it hadn't been used in a while. "We've burned through a quarter tank already."
Marcus shifted in his seat. "Feels like we should've hit another state by now."
Ethan shook his head slightly. "Traffic patterns are wrecked. We're zigzagging more than moving forward."
He paused, then added quietly, "Good thing Justin filled the cans first."
The name hit the Jeep like a sudden loss of pressure.
No one spoke.
Everyone felt it.
Justin had filled the extra gas cans before topping off the Jeep—practical, methodical, thinking ahead the way he always did. Like he knew they'd need a backup. Like he knew the road wouldn't be straight.
A fresh line of tears slid down Mari's face.
She didn't wipe them away.
She reached for her stomach again, this time pressing harder, fingers trembling.
Dot noticed then.
"You okay?" Dot asked softly.
Mari swallowed. "I feel sick."
The words barely made it out before she leaned forward, hand flying to her mouth.
"Pull over," Dot said immediately.
Ethan didn't argue. He guided the Jeep toward the shoulder, tires crunching over gravel and glass. The engine idled low as they stopped beside a row of dead trees stripped bare by winter.
Mari barely had time to open the door before she was retching.
Dot was there instantly, one hand holding Mari's hair back, the other bracing her shoulder as Mari heaved again—dry at first, then violent, gut-wrenching.
"Easy," Dot murmured. "I've got you."
Mari shook her head weakly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," Dot said. "This is a nightmare, not a dinner party."
Marcus leaned out the other side of the Jeep, scanning the road. "Just once I'd like to puke without the threat of being eaten."
Ethan shot him a look.
Marcus shrugged. "Too soon?"
A faint, broken laugh escaped Renee despite herself.
The Jeep doors opened one by one. Everyone stretched stiff limbs, rubbing sore backs and legs. The cold air bit immediately, sharp and unforgiving, carrying the distant echo of moans from somewhere far off.
Ethan walked a short perimeter, weapon ready, eyes sharp.
"Okay," he said quietly when he returned. "We reset."
Mari gagged again, Dot steadying her.
Ethan continued, voice low but firm. "Original plan still stands. First stop is Renee's sister's place. Short rest. Supplies if they're still there. Then we head for the base."
Tally's head snapped up.
Mari wiped her mouth with shaking hands. Her voice came out hoarse. "I'm still going after Ella Belle."
Silence.
Ethan turned slowly. "Mari—"
"I'm not leaving her," Mari said. "Not ever."
Aaron crossed his arms. "You can barely stand."
Mari looked at him, eyes blazing through the tears. "You don't know what I can do."
"With Justin gone—" Aaron started.
Tally exploded.
"You don't know he's dead!" she screamed.
The sound ripped through the quiet like a gunshot.
Ethan swore. "Tally—"
"You didn't see him!" Tally shouted, stepping forward. "You didn't watch him run! You didn't hear him scream!"
The sound carried.
Down the road, something answered.
A low moan.Then another.
Ethan's head snapped toward the trees. "Shit."
Mari bent over again, Dot still holding her hair, both of them exposed—too exposed.
Marcus whispered urgently, "This is officially the worst week before Christmas I've ever had."
A shape moved between the trees.
Then another.
Ethan raised his weapon. "Back in the Jeep. Now."
Tally was still shouting. "You all just want to leave him! Like you left Kenzie!"
"Tally!" Renee hissed.
The moans grew louder.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Mari retched again—and froze.
A figure burst from the trees.
Too close.
Too fast.