Exit 19 was twenty miles ahead, a straight line through black forest and flooded asphalt. The rain hadn’t eased. The SUV’s headlights glowed faintly behind him, keeping perfect distance, never passing, never falling back.
Dan gripped the wheel harder. Dispatch always knew his voice—this one didn’t. He checked his GPS. The tracking signal for his route had vanished.
Something—or someone—had cut the connection.
And when he finally saw the exit sign through the storm, he realized too late that it wasn’t on his original route at all.
