The hum of eighteen wheels rolling across blacktop was the only companion Rook Dalton had that night. The prairie stretched wide and empty on either side of the highway, a sea of grass whipped by the wind. His truck's headlights carved tunnels through the dark, throwing quicksilver flashes across his weathered face. His cap was pulled low, his jaw tight. A man who had hauled his whole life, yet had never quite outrun the silence that waited between towns.
The dispatcher had been cagey earlier that afternoon when he'd offered Rook this load. A sealed government container, no manifest, triple the pay. Too good to be clean. Too strange to refuse.
"Don't open it," the dispatcher said, eyes darting away. "Don't ask."
Now, hours later, Rook found himself wishing he had. The road felt wrong. Empty. He hadn't passed another truck in nearly an hour. No taillights ahead, no oncoming beams. Even the last truck stop he'd passed looked like it had been abandoned—no neon, no gas pumps running.
The storm had been building since dusk. Clouds pressed low, bruised purple and black, flashing with the dull promise of lightning. Rain ticked against the windshield in uneven bursts, and the wind carried the lonely cry of something he couldn't name.
He flicked the CB on out of habit. Silence. Just the soft hiss of static. He reached for the knob to shut it off when a whisper threaded through.
"Driver… don't stop."
Rook froze, his hand hovering. The set was off. The switch was still down. And yet—there it was again. A woman's voice, faint and distorted.
"…don't stop."
His throat went dry. He slapped the CB and it fell silent. For a long moment, he kept his eyes on the empty road ahead, refusing to look at the boxy black shape of the radio.
The storm broke overhead, and thunder cracked so loud the wheel rattled in his hands. Lightning speared down just ahead of him, blinding, searing white. Rook cursed, jerking the wheel.
That was when the trailer snapped.
The rig jackknifed, tires screaming as forty tons of steel bucked sideways across slick asphalt. His body slammed against the cab as the sealed container tore free from its restraints. He had just enough time to shout before it split apart with a sound like the world cracking open.
Something silver exploded outward.