PREVIEW

... gs, streets choked with ash and wreckage. The van rattled over broken pavement, Tucker weaving around obstacles like he'd done this a hundred times. Maybe he had. I sat shotgun, tire iron wedged between my knees, watching the world blur past in shades of gray and ruin.

Rylan slumped in the back, barking directions between gritted teeth. "Left at the next split—avoid the plaza, it's a killbox."

"Got it," Tucker grunted, yanking the wheel. The van lurched, tires screeching.

...

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