On the second night, a phantom convoy appeared. Trucks with no drivers, rigs shimmering like heat mirages. They slid alongside Rook and Mara's vehicles, engines whispering.
"They're scouts," Mara muttered. "Fragments of the Road testing you."
Rook felt them pressing against his mind, trying to steer his hands. He fought the pull, sweat dripping. Finally, with a roar, he shoved back—and the phantom rigs dissolved into smoke.
Mara nodded once. "You're learning."