Noah didn’t know what he was driving into. But he had to find Eli. No matter what.
The truck was gone. Eli had it. And if Noah tried to walk all the way to town, he’d never make it in time.
But then he remembered the gas station. It wasn’t far. Maybe ten minutes if he ran.
He threw on a hoodie, stuffed his phone in the pocket, and took off down the dirt road. Branches scratched at his arms as he cut through the woods, his boots slipping a couple of times on loose gravel. The sun was dipping lower, and the trees made everything feel darker than it should’ve been.
His lungs burned by the time the gas station came into view. He slowed to a walk, doubled over, trying to catch his breath. It looked empty.
The front door was half open, a single buzzing light over it. Just one car sat parked out front, engine still running. No one inside.
Noah stepped into the store. Shelves were stocked, but there wasn’t a single person in sight. It was dead quiet. Like whoever had been here left fast. A news broadcast played quietly on the TV behind the counter, the screen flickering.
He made his way to the coolers in the back, grabbed a bottle of water, twisted it open, and drank nearly the whole thing in one go.
Then he glanced out the front window again—at the car.
It was still there. Still running. The driver’s door wide open. Whoever was in it was long gone.
His heart skipped a beat.
What the hell? Noah thought, suddenly uneasy.
Something about the empty car, still warm in the middle of the chaos, felt wrong.
Noah’s gut twisted. He stepped outside, scanning the area. The wind was starting to pick up, a strange calm hanging in the air. Nothing. No one.
He muttered to himself, trying to shake the nerves. "Sorry," he said under his breath, sliding into the driver's seat.
The keys were still in the ignition.
Noah hesitated, looking at the dashboard. It wasn’t his truck. But it didn’t matter right now. The truck was there, and Eli wasn’t. His brother needed him, and if he wasn’t going to walk to the city—he was driving. Whatever it took.
He slammed the door shut and shifted into drive. The engine rumbled to life, the tires kicking up gravel as Noah took off. The street ahead was dark, the city still miles away, and the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on him harder than ever.
He didn’t know what he was driving into, but he had to get there. He had to find Eli. No matter what.
The car’s heater hummed faintly, and some old rock song crackled through the speakers—off-tune and scratchy, but still there. It felt weird, like the world was ending but the radio hadn’t gotten the memo. Noah gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles white. His leg bounced a little as he drove, nerves creeping in, eating at him.
The road was empty. Too empty. No headlights in the distance, no cars parked along the side. Just trees rushing past in a blur and the sky getting darker by the minute. The sun was almost down, and everything was dipped in this strange orange-red light.
After a few miles, the smoke started.
At first, it was just a haze. Like fog hanging low over the trees. But the closer he got to the city, the thicker it became. Blacker. He rolled the window up tighter and turned off the vents, but it didn’t help much. His throat felt dry, like he’d swallowed a handful of dust.
The radio started cutting in and out. Static bled over the song, turning the words into mumbles. Then it cut out completely. Just a buzz. Noah shut it off and kept going.
Then he crested a hill and saw it.
The city.
Or what used to be the city.
Noah’s foot eased off the gas. The car rolled to a stop at the side of the road, and he just sat there, staring.
Everything was on fire.
Buildings were torn open, windows shattered, streets cracked and broken like the ground itself had been ripped up. Smoke poured out of alleyways and rooftops. He could see little bursts of flame in the distance—like small explosions still going off. It looked like a warzone.
He could barely breathe. The smoke was thicker now, curling into the car even with everything sealed up. His eyes burned. His chest felt tight.
But then—he saw them.
People.
Figures darted through the streets, some stumbling, others running wild-eyed, clearly trying to get away from the chaos. A woman clutched a child, limping down the sidewalk. A man ran past, his face drawn tight with fear. He vanished into a smoke-filled alley, desperate to escape whatever nightmare was unfolding around them.
Noah sat frozen for a moment, his heart racing, unsure what to do. This was real. It wasn’t some nightmare. People were running from something. From whatever had caused all this destruction.
He needed to find Eli. And fast.
He was about to pull the car forward when something caught his eye. A flicker of movement just outside his window.
A knock.
Noah’s heart thudded in his chest as he slowly turned his head.
And there, standing right outside the car, was Eli.
A faint, tired smile tugged at Eli’s lips, though his eyes were wide with something more urgent than relief. His clothes were dirty, torn, like he'd been through hell. Sweat and grime streaked across his face, but he was alive.
"Eli?" Noah breathed, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind. His pulse thundered in his ears. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Eli didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced at the road ahead, then back at Noah, his expression tense. “Get out of the car,” he said, voice strained. “We don’t have much time.”
Noah hesitated for a second before pushing the door open, stepping out into the smoke-filled air. The heat hit him like a physical force. But as he made his way around to the other side of the car, ready to pull Eli in, something deep inside him told him to just go.
It wasn’t time for questions. Not yet.
Eli slid into the passenger seat, looking straight ahead, face pale, lips pressed together in a thin line.
Noah slid back into the driver’s seat, his hands trembling as he gripped the wheel.
“Let’s go,” Eli muttered, barely audible. “Before it’s too late.”
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