They stopped at a truck stop that looked abandoned, but wasn't. Dim orange lights flickered over a scattering of rigs parked at odd angles. Drivers lounged outside, smoking, eyes hollow. Some glowed faintly like Rook.
Mara introduced him to a few. Harlan, whose skin bore the shimmer of asphalt. Jin, whose shadow bent against the light. All Baptized. All survivors.
"Don't get attached," Mara whispered. "The Road doesn't let many of us last."
Rook saw the truth in their faces. They looked like ghosts already.