The desert stretched endlessly before you, an unforgiving expanse of sand and sun. The growl of your engine was the only sound, a steady rhythm that had become your constant companion. For the first time in a long time, the emptiness brought you a sense of peace—a rare moment where nothing hunted you, and no one demanded your attention. But peace in the wasteland never lasted.

Up ahead, something broke the monotony of the horizon: a figure staggering through the heat shimmer, carrying another man slung over his shoulders. Trouble, no doubt. You instinctively reached for your weapon, eyes narrowing as you slowed your vehicle just enough to get a better look.

The man’s steps faltered, his strength giving out as he collapsed into the sand, his burden crumpling beside him. Both bodies lay still, baking under the merciless sun.

Your grip tightened on the wheel. Not my problem, you told yourself. Out here, the dead and dying were as common as grains of sand. People went down, and you kept moving. That was survival.

But something nagged at you. The way the man had struggled to carry the other—despite knowing it could kill him. The sheer determination in his movements before he fell.

You glanced at the bodies again in your rearview mirror. They weren’t moving. Easy to keep going, easy to leave them behind. They’d be someone else’s problem soon enough—if they survived at all.

Your foot hovered over the accelerator. A choice had to be made. Stop, and risk entangling yourself in someone else’s mess? Or drive on and let the desert bury them?

The engine rumbled impatiently beneath you, waiting for your decision.

What’s it going to be?