The parking lot went silent.
Vera stood beside her SUV, shotgun resting against her shoulder like she'd been born with it in her hands. Behind her, twelve armed men and women spread out. Some had rifles. Some had pistols. All of them had the look of people who'd killed before.
Alex counted. Thirteen, including Vera.
His crew: four.
Cole: one.
Five against thirteen.
Stupid odds, he thought. Again.
But he didn't lower his tire iron.
"I'm going to say this once," Vera called out. "Your unique skill. Your vehicle. Your crew. You hand them over, and I let you walk."
"You said that already," Alex said. "Didn't sound better the second time."
Vera's eyes narrowed. "You've got a mouth on you."
"My mother taught me."
"Your mother's not here."
Alex's jaw tightened. No, he thought. But she was. And I'm going to find out why.
Cole stepped up beside him. The old trucker had pulled a revolver from somewhere—six shots, old-fashioned, but deadly at close range.
"That's Vera," Cole muttered. "Leader of the Road Knights."
"Road Knights?"
"Fancy name for murderers. They take what they want and leave bodies behind."
"Good to know."
"You got a plan?"
Alex looked at the RV. Sarah was in the driver's seat, engine running. Jade was on the roof, broken rifle aimed at the SUV's gunner. Danny was crouched by the back window, knife in hand, terrified.
Four people counting on me.
He looked at the SUVs. Three vehicles. The gunner in the first one. The driver in the second. The third—
The third SUV's back door was open. Something was inside. Something big.
Bad, Alex thought. Whatever that is, it's bad.
"New plan," he said quietly. "We don't fight."
Cole blinked. "What?"
"We run."
"You just told her to come and take it."
"I lied."
---
Vera raised her shotgun. "Last chance, Chen."
Alex didn't answer. He turned and ran.
"Fire!" Vera shouted.
The world exploded.
Bullets ripped through the air. Alex dove behind a rusted pickup truck. Cole dove beside him. The old man's revolver came up—bang—and one of Vera's men dropped.
"Six shots!" Cole yelled. "Make them count!"
Alex peered around the truck. The RV was moving. Sarah had thrown it in reverse, backing toward the highway. Jade was firing—broken rifle or not, she was putting rounds downrange.
Danny was in the passenger seat, knife forgotten, hands over his head.
Good kid, Alex thought. Stay down.
He looked for an opening.
The SUVs were between him and the RV. Too much ground. Too many guns.
"Cole," he said. "You got a vehicle?"
"Behind the cafe. Motorcycle."
"Can you ride?"
"I'm sixty-three, not dead."
"Then go. I'll draw their fire."
Cole stared at him. "You're crazy."
"Probably. Now move."
The old trucker ran. Low. Fast. Bullets kicked up dust at his heels.
Alex raised his tire iron—not as a weapon, but as a target.
"Hey, Vera!" he shouted. "You want my skill? Come get it!"
He threw the tire iron. It clattered across the parking lot, drawing eyes.
Then he ran the other way.
---
The cafe's kitchen was dark. Greasy. Smelled like old coffee and older meat.
Alex burst through the back door just as a bullet shattered the window behind him.
He kept moving.
Dining room. Booths. The wall of warnings—
ZERO MILE.
THE ROAD IS HUNGRY.
—and out the front.
The RV was waiting. Sarah had swung it around, back door open.
"Jump!" she screamed.
Alex ran. His legs burned. His lungs burned.
Behind him, Vera's voice: "Don't let him get away!"
A bullet grazed his arm. Hot. Sharp.
He ignored it.
Ten feet. Five. Two.
He jumped.
Sarah yanked him inside. The door slammed shut. The RV lurched forward.
Bullets pinged off the reinforced chassis—thank you, Mom—and then they were on the highway, tires screaming, engine roaring.
Alex lay on the floor, gasping.
"Everyone alive?" Sarah asked.
"Here," Jade said from the roof hatch. "Bent my barrel worse, but I'm here."
"Danny?"
A small voice from the bunk: "I'm okay."
"Cole?" Alex asked.
A motorcycle engine roared beside them. Cole pulled up on an old Harley, gray beard flying in the wind. He gave Alex a thumbs-up.
"He's alive," Sarah said. "Now explain what the hell just happened."
Alex sat up. His arm was bleeding. His head was spinning.
"The woman," he said. "Vera. She knows about my skill. She knows my name."
"How?"
"I don't know. But she's not the only one who knows things."
He pulled out the journal. The photograph. Handed it to Sarah.
"Cole said something. Before the shooting. He said he knew the woman who owned this RV. Before the Transfer."
Sarah looked at the photo. Three people. One Winnebago.
"Red hair," she said slowly. "Green eyes."
"Yeah."
"That's not me."
"No. But she had a son. A son who delivered packages in Chicago."
Sarah's eyes went wide. "Alex..."
"My mother," he said. "Elena Chen. She was here. Before any of us. And now she's gone."
The RV was quiet. Even the engine seemed to soften.
"How is that possible?" Jade asked. She'd climbed down from the roof, broken rifle in hand. "The Transfer happened to everyone at the same time."
"Apparently not."
"So your mom was..."
"A test subject? A first wave? I don't know." Alex took back the photograph. Stared at the woman's face. "But I'm going to find out."
---
They drove for an hour before stopping.
Cole pulled up beside them at a rest area—a real one, with benches and a map that showed places that didn't exist anymore.
The old trucker killed his engine and walked over.
"You're bleeding," he said to Alex.
"It's a scratch."
"It's a bullet wound. There's a difference." He pulled a first aid kit from his saddlebag. "Sit down."
Alex sat.
Cole cleaned the wound. Bandaged it. Worked with the efficiency of someone who'd done it before.
"You knew my mother," Alex said.
"I knew of her. Everyone on the road knew of her. She was the first."
"The first what?"
"The first to reach Zero Mile." Cole sat back on his heels. "Or so the story goes. She found something out there. Something the system didn't want her to find. And then she disappeared."
"Disappeared how?"
"No one knows. Some say she died. Some say she escaped. Some say she's still out there, waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
Cole looked at Alex. Really looked at him. "For you."
The words hung in the air.
Alex wanted to laugh. Wanted to call it crazy. But the journal was in his pocket. The RV was behind him. The hidden modifications were real.
His mother had built this vehicle to survive.
For me, he thought. She built it for me.
"How do I find Zero Mile?" he asked.
Cole shook his head. "You don't find it. It finds you. When you're ready."
"And how do I know when I'm ready?"
"You'll know." The old trucker stood up. "I've been on this road for two weeks. Seen a lot of crews come and go. Most of them are just trying to survive. But you..." He pointed at Alex. "You're trying to understand. That's different."
"Different good or different bad?"
"We'll find out."
---
Sarah called everyone together.
"We need to talk about Vera," she said. "She knows Alex's name. She knows about his skill. That means someone's talking."
"Or someone's watching," Jade said. "The system tracks everything. Levels. Credits. Maybe skills too."
"Then why hasn't everyone come for him?"
Jade shrugged. "Maybe they don't know what the skill does. Yet."
Alex listened. His arm throbbed. His mind raced.
Vera wants my skill. The Road Knights want my crew. And somewhere out there, Zero Mile is waiting.
"We keep moving," he said. "East. Stay off the main roads. Avoid large groups."
"And if Vera finds us again?" Sarah asked.
Alex looked at his system screen. Level two. One hundred and seventy-five credits. A long way from level ten.
"Then we fight," he said. "And we win."