The motor purrs low as my little car rolls down the cracked street, plushies swaying inside while shadows stretch across the windshield, but the quiet doesn’t last—suddenly, a man steps out of the dark, right into my headlights, and I slam the brakes as the car jerks to a stop; for a heartbeat I think he’s just another survivor, until he lifts his arm and the glint of a gun flashes in the pale light, pointing straight at me—my gut twists, I kill the engine, the hum dies, silence swallowing everything as my hand hovers on the door handle, heart pounding hard enough to echo in my ears, and then his voice cuts through the night, rough and commanding: “Out. Now.” I push the door open, the cold air rushing in as I step out slowly, every muscle tense, his gun never wavering as he stares me down like a wolf that’s already decided I’m prey.