They reached the New Mexico state line near dusk and pulled into a gas station to breathe. It was dead. Not quiet—dead. No cars. No lights. No hum from the coolers inside. The pumps were dark. Wind pushed an old receipt across the concrete as ifit had somewhere better to be.
The HMMWV coughed once … then died at the pump. Jeffery stepped out slowly.
“What the heck is going on?” he muttered.
Scayes climbed out behind him, stretching stiff muscles. Neither of them had realized how long they’d been in that vehicle. All day. No sleep. No real food. The silence pressed on them.
They didn’t even bother checking the pumps twice. No power. No sound. For all they knew, the world they left behind was already gone. They slid down against the pump and lay on the warm, oil-stained concrete.
An hour passed without words. Finally — “Scott … at some point we gotta go home. You know that, right?”
Jeffery didn’t answer right away.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m just enjoying doing nothing.”
“I’m hungry, boss.”
Jeffery shot him a look.
“I ain’t anybody’s boss anymore. MREs are in the HMMWV.”
They didn’t move. Jeffery blinked once. The next time his eyes opened, it was dark. He didn’t remember falling asleep. His body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Every joint ached. His mind felt worse. The firefight replayed behind his eyes even when he forced them open. He closed them again just to make it stop.
“Scott! Hey, Scott!”
Jeffery jerked awake, half ready to swing.
Scayes stood over him, breathing hard.
“What are you doing?” Jeffery snapped, still foggy.
“We need water. It’s getting hot. All we got is dry MREs.”
Jeffery rolled onto his side, grunting.
“You know how to hot-wire?”
Scayes gave a tired half-smile. “How hard can it be?”
They tore open the MRE box first. Ate mechanically. No appetite. Just survival. The store’s front glass was shattered.They stepped inside cautiously.
“Guess we’re not getting charged for this,” Scayes muttered.
The place had been looted, but not completely. Chips. Snack bars. Bottled drinks missed in the chaos. They sat on the floor and ate like kings who had lost everything but still refused to kneel.
After a while — “Scott … we never had a chance,” Scayes said quietly. “Whoever that was? They were thorough.”
Jeffery stared at nothing.
“But who wants us dead?”
Scayes didn’t answer.
He just said, “Man … I’d kill for a cigarette.”
“Probably the first thing they took,” Jeffery muttered.
They tried their phones. No service. None. Not even a flicker.That was the first moment something inside Jeffery tightened.That wasn’t random. They slept again inside the station.
Jeffery dreamed in black. Gunfire echoed in the darkness. A cry started far away and came closer. A soldier ran toward him, getting shot in the back. Jeffery jolted upright, grabbing for his M-4. It wasn’t there. Scayes stood near the doorway.
“Sometimes you just gotta breathe,” he said.
Jeffery wiped sweat from his face.
“You find a car?”
“Yeah. Ain’t a prom queen. But it’s got A/C.”
They walked outside. Before leaving, Scayes paused.
“Scott … you heard home ain’t really home anymore, right?”
Jeffery stopped.
“Yeah. I’m hoping that’s exaggerated.”
Scayes hesitated.
“Why we gotta go back?”
Jeffery looked at him fully now.
“Because it’s home. And if it’s falling apart, we put it back together.”
Scayes nodded once. They tried hot-wiring. Failed. For an hour.Then Jeffery leaned against another car and noticed something simple—Keys on the seat.
“Scayes!” he barked. “Quit destroying that one. We’ve been blessed.”
Scayes grunted and slid into the driver’s seat.
“I didn’t hear you volunteering to hot-wire.”
“I’ve driven enough. Your turn.”
They headed toward Louisiana. As they drove, Jeffery lay back, eyes closed but not sleeping. Cell service dead. Radio dead. Gas stations empty. Stores looted. Military ambush precise.
“Were we in the way?” he thought. “Or were we meant to be there?”
A thought formed slowly.
“Traitors,” he whispered.
Scayes assumed he was talking in his sleep.
They crossed into Louisiana at night. Scayes barely made it a few miles before pulling over.
“I can’t keep my eyes open.”
They slept on the roadside. Morning came heavy and humid.Jeffery woke to Scayes snoring loud enough to shake the windshield. He almost smiled. Almost. He nudged him awake and took over driving.
Still no radio.
Still nothing.
The world felt muted.
Then Baton Rouge appeared. Bluebonnet Road.
Jeffery’s stomach dropped. The city looked abandoned. Cars scattered. Windows broken. Trash everywhere. Two men were fighting in the street. A police cruiser pulled out ahead of them.
The officer stepped out. Jeffery lifted a hand in a small wave.Military. We’re good.
The officer saw it. And opened fire.
Bullets tore into the car. Scayes bolted upright. Jeffery accelerated hard. Glass shattered.
Scott glanced over—Scayes was choking.
Shot in the throat. Chest. Leg. Blood everywhere.
“Keep pressure! You’re not dying today!” Scott shouted.
He wasn’t watching the road. He wasn’t thinking. The car clipped a culvert. Flipped.
Once.
Twice.
Then landed upright in the grass.
Silence.
Scott coughed and forced himself upright. “Scayes?”
No response. He didn’t need to check for a pulse.
The back seat was red. Scayes was gone. Scott swallowed something that felt like glass. He forced himself out of the car.The police cruiser never came.
That was worse.
He limped toward the nearest building—a hotel. Why would a cop shoot military? Then it hit him again.
Traitors.
His mind spiraled.
“He’s coming. He’s finishing it.”
Every shadow looked like movement. Every sound was a footstep. He staggered behind the front desk, grabbed a key labeled 4.
“I won’t die today,” he whispered to himself.
He burst from behind the counter, adrenaline drowning out thepain. He fumbled the key. Dropped it. Picked it up. Hands shaking violently. Unlocked the door. Rushed inside. Locked it.Then dove into the bathroom and shut the door. The room was suffocatingly hot.
The air thick. No power. No noise. No sirens. No people. Just silence. Scott sat on the tile floor, back against the tub.Breathing hard.
The world had changed.
And he was alone.