“They already know exactly where we are sitting.”

In the distance behind us, two sets of headlights rounded the curve of the road.

They were moving fast, much faster than the speed limit allowed.

The high beams flashed once through the rain.

I reached down, grabbed my phone from the center console, and held the power button until the screen died.

“Give me yours,” I said.

Aaron handed over his device.

It was still vibrating, a dull, rhythmic buzz against my palm.

I held the button, but the screen stayed black, and the vibration did not stop.

I rolled down my window an inch, letting in a spray of cold rain, and threw the phone into the deep weeds by the side of the road.

“We need to get off this route,” Aaron said, his eyes fixed on the passenger-side mirror.

“Where does this road lead?” I asked, shifting into third gear.

“It feeds into State Route 190,” he said. “But they will have people waiting near the highway.”

The headlights behind us flared again, brighter this time.