Chapter 1: The Engine's Last Breath

Charlie pressed the accelerator one final time. The engine sputtered, gasped, and ultimately fell silent.

"Damn. The fuel gauge is empty."

He had intended to refuel the night before returning home after the service. But then the comet appeared, unleashing chaos. He was the only one who left the church, the last man standing. Surely, that was a sign.

He allowed the Chevy to glide to a halt on the road.

Close behind, he could sense it. The fugitives couldn't be too far ahead. He would have to walk until he found another vehicle, but he was determined to catch up. When he did…

Charlie smirked, contemplating the possibilities, wiping his lips. Yes, they would pay for this. Even Jesus would endorse his mission. Kyra would return, tail tucked and humbled. Some reprimanding would be necessary, but eventually, she'd recognize her mistakes.

Bobby Kent, however, was a different matter altogether. Taking another man's wife could not go unpunished. The Holy Hand of God would ensure that justice was served.

Charlie grinned. He would be the instrument of divine retribution.

"So help me God," he murmured as he stepped out to start walking.

His western boots echoed on the pavement. This avenging angel, he chuckled, was in desperate need of reliable transportation.

He coughed harshly, spitting green phlegm onto the asphalt. In the distance, he spotted lights flickering off to the side of the road. Likely, his new ride awaited him there.

God provides for the needy.

Chapter 2: The Breaking Dawn

As dawn approached, Kyra began to cough up blood.

They had passed through several towns—one was ablaze, while the others remained shrouded in darkness. An isolated roadside store was just opening, and they stopped for fuel and snacks.

Bobby paid, but the storekeeper was oddly silent.

When Kyra exited the restroom, she appeared frightened.

"Bobby, I feel sick." He nodded. Her cough had intensified during the drive, sounding as if something inside her was loose. Bobby listened, growing increasingly worried as he drove through the night.

"Are you in pain?" he asked. "I can find a hospital."

"No," she replied. "Not exactly. It’s more like…" She paused, her hacking coughs restarting.

Bobby understood the sensation. Though not as severe as Kyra's, he had felt it too—a shifting of his insides, a pulsating with each heartbeat, an unsettling sensation coursing through him.

Anxiety chased down fear as he pondered what had gone down his throat. He had assumed Kyra had expelled everything when the green mist escaped her, but clearly, it wasn’t all gone.

Throughout the night, he couldn't help but look up at the shimmering sky. Something lingered in the air, something that remained inside.

Bobby observed, filled with concern but powerless. Kyra’s harsh coughing subsided, transforming into wheezing, then slowing into labored breaths.

"Are you alright?" he asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"No, I am not alright." Her voice trembled, tinged with frustration and anger.

Bobby