Rain had come and gone sometime during the night.
The road still held it in shallow puddles, and every step I took sent thin ripples through muddy water. The sky above was gray in that dull way that made it hard to tell if morning had fully arrived or if the world was just tired.
My leg felt better.
Not healed.
Just numb enough to be useful.
That worried me more than pain would have.
I crouched near the shell of an abandoned sedan, wiping dirt from the edge of a road map spread across the hood. Detroit was behind us now. Windsor wasn't far if the route was still clear and if the bridge crossings weren't packed with bodies or people worse than bodies.
A lot of ifs.
Lila sat on the roof of the car, knees pulled up, chewing on something she'd scavenged from a gas station vending machine two towns back. Gum, maybe. Her boots tapped lightly against the glass.
She had been watching me for the last ten minutes.
I could feel it without looking.
