Seven
I could smell the dread that came from the backseat. A huge roadblock on the M8 had forced us to leave the motorway and drive through the centre of the city. Rahab tried to convince me to take a route around Glasgow altogether, but I couldn’t risk losing those hours. Rahab grabbed Amber tightly and stared out of the window into the menacing darkness.
“It was a mistake,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer. The urge to get to Area Three rose inside my chest. Glasgow was a shortcut. There was no border anymore that could stop us. Terror reigned in the cities. We moved along Paisley Road, parallel to the M8, on the lookout for a sign that would lead us to the end of the diversion. We were intruders in this ghost town, and our headlights cut through the darkness like sharp knives. I consta
