Scott drove until the city disappeared behind him.
The road narrowed, the GPS long abandoned, his turns deliberate and memorized rather than guided. Hours passed in silence, the sound of the engine the only sound keeping him company.
He welcomed the isolation.
By the time he pulled into a gas station on the outskirts of town, the sky had begun to dull into a muted gray, dawn still far off. The station looked half-forgotten. There were just two old pumps, flickering fluorescent lights and a convenience store that hadn't been updated in decades.
Scott parked near the side, stepped out, and glanced around once before entering.
Inside, he didn't browse or linger. He nodded briefly at the cashier, walked past the aisles, and pushed through a door marked Employees Only.
The back door opened into a gravel lot where another car waited.
The car had different plates, a different color and shape.
