The Land Rover moved steady down the highway.
Malcolm didn't slow when walkers drifted into the road. The reinforced metal at the front caught them and threw them aside. Bodies rolled off the hood. Limbs snapped under the tires. The vehicle barely jolted.
Twitchers darted from the shoulder once or twice, fast and erratic, but the weight of the car made short work of them. The steel grills over the windows rattled when something hit, then settled again.
Inside, it felt solid.
Protected.
They hadn't seen a hunter yet.
The highway was mostly clear. Old traffic jams had been pushed aside, cars bulldozed into crooked lines along the shoulders. Burned shells. Open doors. Nothing moved between them.
Iyisha glanced at the dashboard clock.
Four in the afternoon.
Still hours before dark.
A twitcher broke from the ditch and sprinted straight at them.
"God. Why are there more twitchers here?" Iyisha said.
Malcolm kept his eyes on the road.
