Page 88 of What Remains

The admission hung in the cold morning air, raw and undeniable. Josie's expression softened for the briefest moment before she stepped closer, until only a few feet separated them.

"Something could happen to any of us." She glanced toward Jay, then Cara, then back to Seth. "You included."

"I know."

"I've already lost my husband." Her voice dropped, quiet enough that the words belonged only to him. "I won't sit here helpless, wondering if I'm about to lose someone else when I know I could have made a difference."

Josie's quiet admission settled over the group, the weight of it changing the air.

Finally Jay cleared his throat. "She's right."

Seth looked toward him.

"She has the training. No one here is more qualified."

Cara nodded. "And having a doctor with us could mean the difference between life and death."

Seth closed his eyes for a second. Every instinct from his training screamed to keep Josie somewhere safe, behind walls and locked doors. But he knew better. His training confirmed it. She wasn't someone he could protect by hiding her away. She was someone you wanted standing beside you when everything went wrong.

He exhaled slowly. "Fine."

Josie offered the smallest smile. "I wasn't asking permission."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself. "I figured."

Behind them, Layla tugged on Liz's hand. "Don't worry." She looked proudly at her mother. "I'll keep Aunt Liz safe while you're gone."

Laughter broke from the adults, and the tension eased just enough for them to breathe again.

But as Seth watched Josie climb into Beast, he found himself memorizing the way she moved like a man who already knew he might need to live off the memory.

As they drove from the ranch, conversation in the truck dwindled to nothing.

The unnatural quiet gave him too much time to think, and hour passed as they approached Lakeview.

Jay's Suburban led about fifty yards ahead, tires crunching steadily through fresh powder.

"So," Cara's voice crackled over the handheld radio, "this quiet is giving me the creeps. Anybody else?"

"Little late for that," Jay answered. "We're about eight months into it."

A chuckle broke through the static before silence reclaimed the convoy.

Then Seth leaned forward, every muscle in his body going still. "Slow down."

Jay's brake lights flashed immediately. "What is it?"

"There."

Seth pointed ahead. Across the two-lane highway, three abandoned vehicles sat haphazardly angled, completely blocking the road—a pickup, a minivan, an SUV. At first glance it looked like another accident, the kind they'd passed a hundred times in the last eight months.

At second glance, it was wrong—the vehicles were angled too perfectly, a barricade, not an accident.

"Back us up," Seth said quietly.

Beast rolled to a stop. Ahead, Jay leaned forward, squinting. "Looks like they just ran out of gas." He reached for the door handle.

"Stay by the damn truck," Seth snapped.