Route 101

The sedan tore down Route 101, the rain lashing against the windshield.

Ren drove with one hand. The other was holding Maya’s.

They were thirty miles out of Echo Ridge. The fog was thinning.

Maya was cleaning the blood off his shoulder with a napkin from the glove box.

"You came back," Ren said quietly, his eyes on the road.

"You tried to push me away," Maya said. "You're a terrible liar, Ren."

"I almost got you killed."

"But you didn't. You saved me. Again."

Ren looked at her. In the dashboard light, she looked exhausted, scared, but alive. And she was looking at him with that same look—like he was a puzzle she had finally solved.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know," Ren admitted. "South? Mexico? Somewhere warm. Somewhere without fog."

"I like warm," Maya nodded. She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera.

She pointed it at him.

*Click.*

Ren didn't flinch this time.

"What was that for?"

"Evidence," Maya smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Proof that the shadow has a light."

Ren looked at the road ahead. The past was burning in a warehouse behind them. The Syndicate would be angry. They would send others eventually.

But for the first time in his life, Ren wasn't afraid of what was coming. He squeezed Maya’s hand.

"Let's go find the sun," he said.

He rolled down the window and tossed his old burner phone out into the night. It shattered on the asphalt, leaving the signal behind.

Ren hit the gas, and they disappeared into the clarity of the open road.