The convoy moved north again.Evelyn sat in the back seat of the lead truck with Rowan beside her, Warren in front, and Caleb gripping the wheel like the road had personally insulted him. The body in the road disappeared behind them, bend by bend, swallowed by distance and trees, but Evelyn could still see it every time she closed her eyes.The infected was placed neatly on its back. The throat opened clean. The road waits beyond it.The Watcher had left them a corpse, a direction, and no explanation.The truck jolted through a rut, and Rowan’s knee bumped hers.He did not move it away. Neither did Evelyn.The contact was small, almost nothing beneath the noise of the engine and the constant creak of supplies packed around them. Still, it grounded Evelyn, Warmth through layers of denim and canvas. Human closeness inside a world becoming less human by the mile.Warren looked back from the passenger seat. “Start talking.”Evelyn’s gaze shifted to him. “That sounded almost like a request
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