The Luna He Broke To Keep

Chapter 5

The Road

The rain had already started by the time I reached the east gate.

Cold. Fast.

I didn’t slow down.

The car was right where Raymond said it would be.

Parked just off the road, half-hidden behind a line of brush.

I got in.

The engine turned over right away.

Of course it did.

For a second, I just sat there, hands on the wheel, watching the rain hit the windshield.

Then I pulled onto the road.

The drive out of pack territory didn’t take long.

I knew every turn. Every stretch.

I just never thought I’d be leaving it like this.

No one followed.

That part stayed with me.

They didn’t even try.

I tightened my grip on the wheel and pushed the thought away.

Didn’t matter.

The trees started to thin out, the dirt road turning into pavement as I got closer to the boundary.

There’s a point where you can feel it.

Where the pack land ends.

I crossed it without slowing.

Something shifted.

Not a clean break.

Just… distance.

Like something that used to be close was now too far to reach.

I kept driving.

The rain eased as the road opened up, and the first signs of a town came into view.

A flickering streetlight.

A faded sign just off the side of the road.

Greyford – 2 km

I followed the road in.

Greyford wasn’t big.

Just a strip of small buildings—an auto shop with the lights off, a convenience store with a buzzing neon sign, and a gas station at the end of the road that looked like it hadn’t been updated in years.

I pulled into the gas station.

The overhead lights hummed, casting everything in that dull yellow glow that made the place feel older than it was.

Only one other car sat near the side.

No one outside.

I turned the engine off.

The silence hit differently here.

For a second, I just sat there.

Hands still on the wheel.

Breathing steady.

Then I reached for my phone.

Nothing.

No messages.

Of course not.

I stared at the screen a second longer than I needed to.

Then locked it and set it down.

No one was coming.

That settled in quietly.

I opened the door and stepped out.

The air smelled different here.

Oil. Rain. Asphalt.

Not pine.

Not earth.

Not home.

I leaned back against the car for a second, looking out at the empty road.

I didn’t need to go far.

I just needed not to be there.

Then I pushed off the car and got back in.

Started the engine.

And this time—

I had a direction.

Not back.

Anywhere but back.