After leaving the dogs behind, Sara and Jacob returned to the Rover and poured the gas into the tank, careful not to spill a single drop. They soon found the highway and began to drive, but they had covered no more than few miles before Jacob was forced to quickly slow down, a dense concentration of abandoned vehicles suddenly blocking the road. He pulled onto the shoulder and continued ahead slowly, squinting through the dirty windshield. Sara rolled down her window and hung her head out as they passed the first few cars.

“What do you see, Sara?”

“I don’t know. It looks like there’s some type of checkpoint ahead, but just keep on going.”

Jacob accelerated and began to weave through the vehicles, but as the checkpoint came into view he slowed again and peered through the windshield.

“What are those, Sara? Are those …?”

Suddenly Sara gasped, and Jacob slammed on the brakes as he realized exactly what they were looking at.

“Holy Mary, mother of God, what in the hell happened here?”

Sara did not answer, and both father and daughter stared ahead as if transfixed. It was like a scene out of terrible nightmare, the road before them littered with hundreds of human bodies, the scattered remains of men, women, and children baking cruelly in the sun. The checkpoint itself was covered in red and black spray paint, and multiple images of ragged-feathered crows were emblazoned on the walls. Above the symbols of the crow, dozens of severed human heads were impaled on tall poles along the fence line, their yellowed teeth poking out of black, lip-less mouths.

They sat idling in silence for only a few seconds before Sara finally looked over at her father and whispered.

“We should go now. Can you please get us out of here?”

Without another word needing to be said, Jacob hit the gas and sped past the bodies and through the barrier, but even as the checkpoint disappeared in the rearview mirror, they both knew it was a place they would never forget.

For the rest of the day, they drove on in complete silence, until the Range Rover began to shudder and lose speed as the engine devoured the last fumes of their gasoline. Jacob wrestled the vehicle to a bumpy stop alongside the highway and looked over at his daughter. She looked up from the map and frowned.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing here. The next town is not for another ten miles at least, and there’s no way I’m going back the way we came. What are we going to do now?”

Jacob scowled and looked out the windshield.

“We can walk to the next town. We can search for fuel there.”

Sara shook her head.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you? Why are we even going south in the first place? Nothing you do makes any sense. Do you have any plan at all?”

Jacob squeezed the steering wheel, the veins bulging on his forehead as he turned to Sara.

“Just shut up and get your gear, Sara. We walk for now. That is the plan.”

They walked one in front of the other, Jacob pulling a wagon loaded with the last of their supplies, the girl following close behind with the map. They had found that most of the road signs and identifying markers along the highway had been cut down for some reason, and even with the map, the girl could still only guess where they were. They walked in silence until the sun went down, sleeping for only a few hours on the side of the road before they began again. They followed the highway for several miles until they came over a low rise, finally stopping just outside the next town. The town was little more than some trailers, a gas station, a few stores, and a streetlight, and Sara pointed to a small dot on the map and held it up for Jacob to see.

“I think we’re right here.”

Jacob looked at the map and frowned.

“We should take a look around, at least. Maybe we will get lucky.”

Sara began to fold the map when she suddenly thought she heard something. She stopped what she was doing and looked up.

“Do you hear that?”

Jacob stopped and turned, straining his ears. He shook his head.

“I don’t hear a single thing, Sara. Come on.”

Jacob started to walk away, but Sara did not budge. She closed her eyes. She could hear something for certain now; it was coming from somewhere behind them.

“No, I hear something, for sure. It’s like a humming sound. Can’t you hear it?”

Jacob stopped. He turned and scowled down at his daughter.

“No, Sara. I told you that I don’t hear anything. Now can we please keep moving?”

Suddenly, Sara’s eyes grew large, and she spun around and grabbed his hand.

“We need to get off the road. Right now!”

Jacob was confused, but he could hear the panic in her voice, and he let go of the wagon and stepped off the highway.

“What? What is going on, Sara?”

There was no time for the girl to say another word, and before Jacob knew what was happening, she reached up and yanked him down to the ground beside her. Jacob hit the dirt hard and immediately spun to face Sara, his face contorted with confusion, her face white with fear. She looked at him and pressed her finger to her closed lips. It was in that moment of silence that he finally heard it, too: the low rumbling of an engine coming fast. He pressed himself to the earth just as the vehicle raced by, leaving a trail of strange-smelling black smoke that settled all around them. Jacob looked over at Sara, but her eyes were following the truck as it continued down the highway. She spoke quietly, her voice shaky.

“They had to have seen the wagon. What if they come back? We have to hide.”

Jacob looked around. There was a row of low-lying bushes behind them. There was a chain-link fence behind the bushes. There was nowhere else for them to go. He tried to sound reassuring.

“Maybe they didn’t see it. Maybe they will just keep driving.”

Sara nodded hopefully as they watched the truck continue down the highway, and for a moment it looked as if Jacob might indeed be right. He smiled weakly.

“See? They never saw a thing.”

He was just about to stand up when the truck suddenly came to a stop in the middle of the road, a black cloud of exhaust momentarily obscuring the vehicle like a ship lost in the fog. Sara bit her lip as the taillights switched from red to white and the truck began to slowly reverse in their direction. Sara grabbed Jacob and pulled him down beside her.

“We have to hide, now!”

They quickly turned and crawled behind the row of bushes that lined the side of the highway, their panicked breaths falling into sync as the truck came to stop directly in front of them. Sara held her nose and tried not to cough as the heavy smell of the truck’s exhaust permeated the air around them. Jacob could see that the truck was an older model Ford or Chevy, something American, the exterior a dull, primer gray, a heavy tint on the windows. He pulled the revolver from his waistband and waited, his heart racing as he heard the driver’s-side door creak open. Jacob gave Sara a strange look that made her even more frightened than she already was. He dared to whisper in her ear.

“I will not let them take you. Do you understand? Even if I have to do it myself, I will not let them hurt you.”

Sara had no way of knowing that her father had a made a promise to himself that he would rather kill his own daughter than allow her to be raped and tortured, and she put her finger to her mouth and whispered.

“What are you talking about? No one is taking me anywhere, just shut up and be quiet.”

Sara peered through the bushes and held her breath. She could see the driver of the truck clearly now. He was younger than her father, but his face was equally worn, a patchy beard beneath a thinning head of greasy, black hair. He was carrying a length of pipe in one hand, and Sara noticed that his arms were scarred and inked with tattoos. A faded black AC/DC t-shirt hung loosely from his wiry frame, and the Driver’s camouflage pants were adorned with various military-style patches that Sara did not recognize. A shiny silver 9mm pistol was cradled in a leather holster on his right hip, and a large knife hung menacingly on the left. The Driver stepped over and poked at the wagon, tapping the end of the pipe against the metal.

Sara looked over at her father, and for the first time in her life, she saw him begin to panic, his chest heaving, his face flushed. Sara reached out to calm him, but her touch only seemed to make him more apprehensive, and he batted her hand away as he struggled to catch his breath. Sara did not know what else to do, and she watched in disbelief as her father pulled his knees to his chest and tucked his head down, the revolver slowly slipping out of his fingers and falling softly to the leaves beside her.

The contents of the wagon had been secured with a tarp and bungee cords, and the Driver reached down for his knife, the heavy blade slicing through the cords with an audible snap that made Sara flinch. He pulled the tarp away and leaned down to investigate the wagon, a crooked smile spreading across his lips. Sara’s eyes narrowed as she noticed the tattoo of the black crow on his arm. It was the same symbol she had seen spray painted on the walls of the checkpoint, and the girl swallowed hard and shuddered.

Inside the small metal wagon were nearly all of their vital supplies: a plastic container three-quarters full of bleach, a dozen sixteen-ounce bottles of water, their sleeping bags, several miscellaneous tools, two pairs of spare shoes, and, of course, all of their food. Sara looked over at the gun resting in the leaves beside her, and she understood that they would die without those supplies. She looked over at Jacob one last time. He was shaking, and it was at that moment that Sara realized just how weak her father truly was. She looked back at the Driver, and seeing no other choice, Sara picked up the gun and stood up from behind the bush. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Drop the pipe and back away from my stuff. If you come any closer, I’ll shoot.”

The Driver’s smile instantly fell from his face as he looked up to see a skinny teenage girl pointing a large .38 caliber pistol directly at him, and he let the pipe fall from his hand without her having to say another word. They stood motionless for several seconds before he finally flashed the same crooked smile as before, speaking with a faint accent from somewhere that she could not quite place.

“Just take it easy, sweetheart. Why don’t you put the gun down and let me introduce myself? My friends call me Axel. You sure are a pretty little thing. What’s your name?”

Sara kept her mouth closed, trying to keep the gun as steady as possible. The Driver looked down to her right and nodded.

“You got a friend down there with ya? Tell ’em it’s OK to come on out. It’s great to finally run into some decent folks. Heck, I got some good, warm food and clean water in the truck that we can all share.”

Sara’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. She was caught off guard by his friendly demeanor, and the mere mention of warm food made her mouth water. She glanced down at her father, a single line of clear mucus running out of his nose. The sight of Jacob cowering made the girl’s blood boil, and she scowled over at the Driver.

“There’s no one else. I’m all alone, and if you don’t want to die, you need to get back in your truck, and leave it that way.”

The man laughed.

“All alone, is that right, sweetheart? Awfully strange for a girl your age to be alive in the first place, much less on the road all alone. It’s even stranger for you to be carrying around a pair of men’s size-ten shoes in your wagon.”

Sara swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She was feeling a unique mixture of fear and anger like at no other time in her life, and she cocked the hammer back on the Smith and Wesson. The man laughed at her again.

“Now just hold on there a minute, good-lookin’. You got me all wrong. I’m one of the good guys. I don’t think a sweetheart like you would really shoot a good guy like me.”

He took a step toward her, and Sara stiffened. She wanted to shout, but instead her voice was chillingly quiet, her chin quivering with growing rage.

“I don’t care what you think. You need to turn and around and leave. I’m not playing. If you come any closer, I’m going to kill you.”

He stopped for moment, the smile no longer matching the look in his eyes.

“OK, all right, no problem. I hear ya loud and clear, doll-face.”

His hands dropped down toward his belt, and despite her warning, he took another small step closer. He gave her a creepy, slow-motion wink.

“See, you don’t really want to kill me, sweetheart. Now, I have an idea. Why don’t you give me the gun, and I promise I won’t hurt you?”

Sara shook her head. She was angry at her father for being weak. She was angry at the Driver for laughing at her. She was angry at the world for anything and everything, and that anger had now replaced her fear. The girl gritted her teeth and hissed.

“I have a better idea. Why don’t I hang on to the gun, and if you take another step forward, or call me sweetheart one more time, I promise that I will kill you where you stand.”

The man smirked at the girl, but his once friendly tone was now absolutely gone.

“I see how it is. But promises or not, we both know that you’re not going to do a damn thing, sweetheart. All teenage girls do is break promises. Now why don’t you shut that pretty mouth of yours for minute, ’cause I’m taking that gun from you whether you like it or not.”

The Driver took a final, defiant step forward, but before he could reach out for the gun, the teenage girl proved the man wrong, and with a single pull of the trigger, Sara kept her promise. The sound of the gun going off in her hand shattered the otherwise still morning air, and as the .38 caliber bullet tore through his chest at nearly point-blank range, the Driver was all but dead even before he hit the ground.

The sky went instantly black as hundreds of crows suddenly took to the air, and Sara stared down at the dead man in disbelief at what she had done. Slowly, she set the gun on the ground. She stepped back and looked down at her father, her mouth open, her eyes wide. Startled out of his stupor, Jacob pulled himself to his feet and stared slack-jawed at the dead man lying a few feet away. The words slowly spilled out of his mouth.

“You killed him?”

Sara took a deep breath and looked over at her father.

“He gave me no choice. I couldn’t let him just take our things. We would die.”

Jacob did not know what to say, and he watched in silence as Sara walked over and stared down at the Driver’s body. A dark pool of blood was still spreading in the dirt below him, and as if she were worried that he would somehow come back to life, Sara bent down and quickly took the dead man’s silver Beretta pistol from his belt. She stared down at the body for several seconds, but it was not until she stepped back and saw the man’s blood on her shoes that the girl was suddenly struck by the fact that she had just killed another human being. Slowly, she backed away and slumped down beside the still idling truck.

Jacob understood her well enough to leave her alone, and he walked over and picked up the revolver and both of their backpacks. He was walking toward the wagon, still in something of a daze, when suddenly Sara screamed and sprang away from the pickup like a startled cat. Jacob instinctively raised the revolver, but he was not sure where to aim or what to do. Sara slid behind him and pointed at the truck with the dead man’s 9mm. She was frantic.

“Something moved inside the truck! I heard it and I felt it—someone or something is in there!”

Jacob gave her a skeptical look, but he regretted it immediately as Sara stared daggers back at him. She was in no mood to be second-guessed again, and she made it perfectly clear to her father.

“Really? You don’t believe me? Again? I’m not lying, Jacob. Something is definitely inside that truck.”

Jacob looked over at the truck and swallowed hard.

“OK, Sara. I believe you. What do you want me to do about it?”

Sara shouted.

“What do I want you to do about it? I want you to find out what it is, that’s what I want you to do about it!”

Jacob looked over at the truck again. It was still idling. The air was thick with the strange-smelling exhaust. He looked over at Sara and then back to the truck.

“Are you sure it was not just the engine knocking?”

Sara’s frustration with her father had reached a breaking point, and she had to stop herself from pointing the silver pistol straight at his head to make him understand.

“It wasn’t the engine! Are you even listening to me? There is something moving inside the truck! I am one-hundred-percent positive. Do I really have to do everything myself? Are you that useless?”

Jacob bowed his head in shame. He knew he had no choice.

“Fine. I will check it out. I am sure it is nothing.”

He took the revolver and approached the truck with caution, slowly closing the distance until he was within a single step of the driver’s-side window. He pressed his ear to the window and listened for a few seconds. There was no sound coming from the truck. He looked over at Sara and shrugged. She did not shrug back. Instead, she yelled.

“What are you waiting for? Open the door!”

Jacob ignored her, and instead he bent down and peered through the passenger’s-side window, cupping his hands to the glass. At first, he saw nothing out-of-the-ordinary, the front seats empty, the steering column cracked, a few exposed wires protruding from the dash. He was about to back away and tell Sara that she was mistaken when he suddenly caught a flash of movement from just behind the driver’s seat. For a good three seconds, he stared inside the cab, and then, suddenly, without a word, he turned and walked away. Sara watched in confusion as he picked up his backpack and slipped it over his shoulders, and she stepped over and stood in front of him.

“What are you doing? You saw something, didn’t you? What did you see in there?”

Jacob ignored her and cinched up his pack.

“It’s nothing. Time to go, Sara. Grab your pack.”

He walked over and tucked the tarp into the sides of the wagon. Sara stood motionless as Jacob grabbed the wagon’s handle and looked over at his daughter.

“I said to grab your backpack. We have wasted enough time already. We need to go.”

Sara looked at him as if he were from another planet.

“Have you lost your mind? I know something is in there! What did you see inside the truck?”

Jacob waved his hand to dismiss her question.

“Nothing. It’s empty, just like I thought. Now get your damn backpack on, Sara. We have been here too long already.”

Sara walked over and picked up her pack, but she did not put it on. She looked over at the truck and then to her father. He was already starting to walk away, the wagon creaking behind him. Sara could take it no more.

“What are you doing? You want us to walk? Why wouldn’t we take the truck if it’s empty? What did you see in there?”

Jacob stopped and hung his head. He knew there was nothing more he could say, and for once he made no effort to continue his lie. He looked down at the bright white traffic line beneath his feet and spoke just loud enough for Sara to hear.

“There is a boy in the truck.”

Sara was certain that she had not heard him correctly.

“What did you just say?”

He spoke louder this time, his eyes still fastened to the white line on the ground.

“I said that there is a boy inside the truck.”

Sara did not have to hear him say it again, and she ran over to the vehicle, her heart racing. She flung the door wide open and looked inside. Staring up at her from the small compartment just behind the front seat was a boy only a few years younger than herself, his mouth curled into a wretched frown, his bright blue eyes the epitome of fear. Sara gasped.

“Oh my god.”

Sara looked back at Jacob and then to the boy. He was shaking, with delicate tears leaving pale, white lines down his dirty face. Sara immediately wanted to reach out to the boy, but she somehow knew better than to move too quickly. Instead, she knelt down and whispered softly to him from outside the cab.

“Hi. My name is Sara. What’s your name?”

The boy only stared up at her, his eyes the color of ancient blue ice. She repeated herself again; her voice was quiet and warm.

“It’s OK. Don’t be scared. I’m Sara. What’s your name?”

The boy said nothing, and she thought better than to ask again. Instead, she simply smiled and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re safe now. I promise you that everything is going to be all right from now on. And you can believe it or not, but I never break a promise.”