One bumped against the fender, jaw clicking, and veered away. Another pressed its face against Van's window, hollow red eyes locking onto his.
Van didn't breathe. He didn't blink.
CLICK-CLACK.
The thing turned and shuffled on. Only then did Van and Jane let out a shuddering gasp.
When the last straggler vanished into the fog, Jane whispered, "What now?"
Van motioned to the cargo bay. They moved with painstaking slowness, shifting boxes to create a cramped, hidden nook. Neither wanted a repeat of that paralyzing eye contact.
Huddled in their improvised den, Van silently offered her a bread roll from a torn box. Jane took it, biting in with relief.
He poured hot water from his thermos into a paper cup. "Eat. We're not moving tonight."
Jane took a gulp and spat it back instantly, hissing. "Hot!"
"Why can't you people handle hot food?" Van muttered.
She ignored him, studying his face in the dim light. He was younger than she first thought, sharp-featured, his hair tied back.
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She nudged his knee. "Can I know your name now?"
"Keep asking, and I'll toss you out there."
A faint smile touched her lips. "You're decisive, but you're not that cruel. Even if we part ways later... let's call it making a connection."
Van sighed. Was this sheltered rich kid quoting Eastern philosophy at him? "Van. I deliver things in L.A."
"I'm in L.A. too. Myer Materials."
"I know. Big company." He shifted uncomfortably. "Check your phone. Mine's dead."
Jane pulled out hers. "Nothing. No signal, no apps, no feeds."
Van moved to the driver's seat. "Get some rest back there. I'll keep watch."
Jane was silent for a second. "Thank you," she said, the words genuine.
As she spoke, a familiar chime pinged in Van's mind. Text flickered before his eyes:
[ PASSENGER MODULE: ACTIVATED ]
[ CURRENT PASSENGER: 1 ]
[ CAROLINE JANE COMFORT LEVEL: 1 ]
[ REPUTATION: FRIENDLY ]
[ FRIENDLY+ PASSENGERS GENERATE SURVIVAL POINTS. POINTS = COMFORT LEVEL / DAY. ]
[ WARNING: COMFORT LEVEL IS VOLATILE. PASSENGER MUST BE WITHIN 10m OF VEHICLE TO GENERATE POINTS. ]
Van glanced in the rearview. Jane had stretched out her legs, eyes closed, seemingly unaware. He focused internally. Open system.
A menu-like interface appeared. Two sections were clear:
Vehicle Upgrade - Powered by killing Rotters, offering randomized three-choice bonuses.
Passenger Module - A whole new economy. Comfort generated points. Points, presumably, bought things from a currently greyed-out Shop tab he couldn't access.
Reputation. That was the key. It laid Jane's attitude bare: FRIENDLY.
His real cheat code wasn't the truck's upgrades - it was this window into people's minds. She'd been genuinely helpful. Without her leaning out to guide him in the desert, he'd have wasted his last seven bullets in a futile stand.
Maybe the system nudged him to keep her around. He looked at her, resting against the cargo. The fear in the gas station was gone, replaced by a weary resolve.
"I have a proposal," Van whispered into the quiet.
Jane opened her eyes. "Go on."
"When the fog lifts... I want to go back to Hurley."
Her brow furrowed. "To throw me to them?"
"No." Van's gaze was steady. "We have no intel. I have seven rounds. This truck can't handle another horde."
"Hurley has a big-box outdoor store. It sells guns."