When Willis woke up that third morning, having pulled over on a deserted stretch of highway to sleep, the windows were fogged over. He had eaten two power bars and downed a sixteen ounce water bottle before he realized there were shadows playing across those fogged windows, shapes moving slowly outside the car.
They weren’t trying to get in, at least not yet. He was a quiet sleeper, and it was possible they couldn’t smell him strongly enough to localize him.
When he turned the key, they would know he was there. Hopefully it would start on the first try.
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