Cain pressed harder on the gas, every muscle in his body screaming from the tension. The engine roared beneath him, but the thing behind them roared louder. As the miles slid past beneath their wheels, the noise faded into the night... but Cain didn't trust his own ears. His teeth dug into his lip, and again and again his eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, as if he half-expected the creature to burst out of the darkness at any moment.
"Think we lost it…" he muttered, though the shake in his voice betrayed the doubt he couldn't swallow.
Leticia leaned closer to the window, letting the cold night air brush across her cheek. The scent of pine drifted in, threaded with something sour and foul—like rot clinging to the wind itself. Her brow creased, but she kept quiet.
In the shadowed backseat, William sat as still as a child hiding in a closet during a storm. His eyes darted restlessly, yet they carried a hollow emptiness.
