Chapter 12 Storm Roads

• The rain started two hours after they left the bunker. It wasn’t gentle or forgiving—it came down in sheets, pounding against the broken asphalt of the highway like the sky itself was trying to scrub the world clean.
• Jared gripped the handlebars of the old military bike they’d found in an abandoned checkpoint shed. It roared down the cracked road, tires skimming puddles, engine groaning from years of disuse. Mei sat behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, face pressed to his back to shield against the cold wind.
• They hadn’t said much since escaping the bunker. There was nothing to say. Every second counted now.