The car rolled deeper into the desert, and a heavy silence swallowed us. No more arguing, no banter—just the low growl of the engine and the endless yellow stretching out like it wanted to keep going forever. The sun dipped low, painting the dunes in bruised oranges and purples. It was beautiful in a way that hurt, the kind of beauty that makes you feel small and alone. Even if a hundred people stood here, they’d still disappear into the vastness.

  Everyone stared out the windows, quiet. But my head was loud. I kept replaying it all: the nightmare this morning—those skeletal fingers reaching, my sister’s sunken mouth mouthing “food,” her eyes hollow with a hunger that wasn’t just for bread. The old man with the rusty keys, his hacking laugh like stones grinding. The slithering shadow I’d seen but buried. No network bars on any phone. Two hours since we’d taken his “shortcut,” and nothing but sand and heat.

  Rekha broke the quiet first, her voice sharp but tired. “I told you so, Nitish. Don’t listen to that drunkard.”

  Rekha broke the quiet first, her voice sharp but tired. “I told you so, Nitish. Don’t listen to that drunkard.”

  Nitish’s jaw tightened. His knuckles whitened on the wheel, veins bulging against pale skin. He didn’t snap back—he just stared ahead, like admitting fault would crack something inside him.

  Gaurav, somehow still chill, crunched chips and sipped soda. Crumbs dusted his shirt. Lila rolled her eyes at him, shot me a look that said, See? This is my life every day.

  tried to laugh. It came out dry, scraping my throat like sandpaper. The tension wasn’t us. Not really.

  Then the car lurched. A hard, sudden stop. My head snapped forward, slamming into the back of Nitish’s seat—no seatbelt. Gaurav’s soda can flew, fizzing across Lila’s white skirt in a dark stain. Chips scattered like confetti.

  “What the hell?!” Rekha screamed, voice cracking high.

  Lila whirled on Gaurav. “You idiot! My dress!”

  Gaurav blinked, hands up. “Babe, it’s just a dress. We’ll get a new one—”

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  Nitish exploded. “Shut up! All of you!” His voice boomed in the confined space. “The car stopped. In the middle of nowhere. Yeah, Rekha, I know it’s my fault. Nothing we can do now. Stop acting like kids fighting over a stupid stain and look at what happened.”

  Rekha blinked, stunned. Nitish almost never lost it. She muttered something under her breath, crossed her arms, and nodded once.

  Lila’s nostrils flared, but she stayed quiet, lips pressed thin.

  I shoved my door open. Hot air rushed in, thick with dust. We all climbed out, legs shaky.

  The Mercedes sat crooked on the trail. No smoke, no obvious break. But the tires—both driver-side ones—were shredded. Not punctured. Clawed. Long, deep gouges tore through rubber like fingers had raked them open. Air hissed out in weak sighs. The marks were fresh, jagged, impossible. We hadn’t stopped. No animal in sight. Nothing fast enough to do this without us noticing.

  Lila gasped, clutching Gaurav’s arm so hard he winced. His usual grin was gone; his whole body trembled, trying to play it off as a shiver.

  Nitish crouched, staring. “Vikash… you were on that side. Window seat. Did you see anything?”

  I swallowed. My mouth tasted like metal. “No. Nothing. I would’ve said.”

  The lie burned. My heart turned to ice as the danger sign flashed back—the splintered wood, red paint like dried blood: DANGER: PROCEED NO FURTHER. And behind it, that shadow slithering through thorns, tracking us.

  Was it real?

  The pressure hit like a hand on my chest. My knees buckled. I dropped hard onto the sand, butt-first, dust puffing around me.

  Everyone rushed over.

  “Vikash!”

  “What happened?”

  Rekha shoved through, dropped to her knees, grabbed my face in both hands. Her palms were warm, urgent. “Everyone shut up! Let him breathe!” Her eyes locked on mine, stormy gray and fierce. “Vicky. Look at me. I’m right here. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her voice saying my name—soft, like only she could—jump-started my heart. I blinked, lungs filling again.

  I opened my mouth. Their worried faces stared down—Nitish grim, Gaurav pale, Lila biting her lip. Guilt twisted sharper. Should I have told them about the shadow? Was this my fault?

  But before a word came out, I felt it.A presence. Cold. Heavy. Crawling up my spine like fingers made of frost.

  It wasn’t behind us. It was under the car.

  I bent lower, sand grinding into my palms. The others followed my gaze.

  In the shadow beneath the chassis, something waited.

  Not a shape at first—just darkness thicker than it should be. Then it shifted. A glint—eyes? No, not eyes. A wet, reflective hunger. Tendrils of black uncoiled slowly, like smoke with intent, reaching toward the punctured tires. A low whisper brushed my ears, faint but clear: food…

  My blood froze. This wasn’t imagination. This was death, patient and starving, curled under the luxury that got us here.

  Rekha’s grip tightened on my face. “Vikash?

  I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare as the darkness under the car pulsed once, like a heartbeat, and began to spread.