The Pale Path
The odometer on the patrol car had clicked over to 148,203 miles the night before, a number that felt less like a record and more like a debt accumulating in the back of my skull. I sat in the driver’s seat, the heater blowing a dry, metallic warmth over my hands, counting the hours I had logged in the sector since the fog first began to behave strangely. Three years. That was how long I had...
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