SHE ZOOMS DOWN THE highway into a thickening fog. Frodo hangs his head out the window; he's watching the gloom-shrouded landscape pass. They come to a railway stop just as the flashing arms lower into position. As the train roars past she realizes it's a long one, and settles in. The clackity-clack of the rail cars is all she can hear. Fog swirls ominously.
Beth waits, peering intently through the gaps in the cars; there is nothing but darkness on the other side. As she waits, lights appear behind her. She watches them through her rearview mirror as they approach, resolving into the headlights of a small pick-up truck, pulling a travel trailer, which slows to a halt behind her—mere inches, it seems, from her bumper. Uncomfortable with this, she locks her doors and rolls both windows up to
