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Summary
“Before I knew what it was, I already belonged to it.”
Before Stanford, before the hunts that would carve them hollow, there was the road. And before the road, there was this — a pull older than the first monster they killed, stronger than the miles they’ve put between them.
It lives in motel rooms and long stretches of silence. It’s not spoken about. It’s not supposed to be. But it’s there, steady as a heartbeat, waiting in the dark.You can outrun monsters. You can’t outrun this.