Ten Minutes on Highway 9

@ash

The Wraith shudders, coughs, and dies five klicks short of the Hollow, its engine hissing into the dust-thick dark. Ash slaps the dash, then leans out into the stinging grit with a flashlight clenched in his teeth. "Ten minutes," he says around it, eyes flicking to the red glow of patrol lights crawling up the ridge behind you. "Tell me you can fix what I can't — and tell me fast."