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Kirby looked up from the bag. “What the hell was that?”

A plume of smoke spread across the sky in the rearview mirror, dark and thick on the horizon. “Could be another plane.” At least the ground wasn’t shaking under us this time. “Those two crashes probably weren’t the last.”

“I’m glad we’re far enough from the airport now,” Ava said. “I’m still not over the last one.” She twisted in her seat, shooting Kirby a glance. “Anything good in there?”

“Give me a minute.”

I headed south, leaving Marcus Heights behind us.

We’d barely made it a hundred metres before Kirby laughed. “Oh, hell yeah.”

“What?” Ava asked, a hint of a smile appearing.

Kirby reached through to the front and tossed something onto Ava’s lap first, then mine. “Protein bars.”

“Shit.” I eased my foot off the accelerator, approaching a navy sedan stopped on the shoulder, hazard lights flashing.

Both tyres on the driver’s side were flat, and a bald man in a dark green hoodie crouched beside the rear wheel. A woman bundled up in a coat and scarf stood a few metres away from him, her arms around two young boys with freckled skin and hair the same deep shade of brown as hers.

The man looked up at the sound of our engine and rose slowly to his feet, facing the road. One sleeve had been pushed up to his elbow, his forearm wrapped in a fresh bandage. No blood showed on the surface, but my grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Luke,” Kirby said from the back.

“Yeah, I know.” I slowed to walking pace, checking the rearview and side mirrors. For the first time, we had nothing behind us.

Ava’s eyes never left the scene. “We said we weren’t stopping for anyone.”

“I remember.” When I’d agreed to the rule, I was picturing the infected and people with injuries like the ones we’d seen at the airport, not a stranded family with no way of getting moving again.

The man stood by the roadside, a tyre iron hanging from his hand. The woman kept her kids close as if to make sure we saw them as a package deal. No one else appeared injured. It was just the damn bandage that had me wondering.

“Two flat tyres,” Kirby said. “They’re not getting out of here without help.”

“No.” My foot hovered over the brake as her carjacking comment played in the back of my mind. We couldn’t turn off the engine, and I didn’t want to leave it running while we got out.

“Does he actually want help, or does he think we’re a threat?” Ava locked her door, and a breath later, Kirby did the same.

The man followed my gaze, looking down at his hand as if he hadn’t thought about how it might look. His fingers shifted around the metal, and for a second I thought he might drop it.

The woman sent him a pleading look, saying something I had no chance of hearing through the glass.

When the man’s hold tightened again, I moved my foot back to the accelerator.

“Luke.” Ava ignored the mother and her kids, staring straight at the man. “Keep going,” she said, her voice strained. “I don’t like it.”

As we came up beside them, the man still hadn’t dropped the tyre iron. When I picked up speed, Kirby sucked in a breath behind me.

The family disappeared from the side window, and I checked on them in the rearview mirror.

The man finally lowered the tyre iron as the woman rushed over to him, throwing one arm in the direction we’d gone. Even from a distance, I could feel her anger as she gestured at us and shouted.

The man just stood there and took it.

As the youngest boy started crying and reached for his mum’s arm, I returned my attention to the road.

Three

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