Bright yellow stripes flew beneath them, illuminated by the headlights of the old car, while up ahead the night was so dark Michael could scarcely see more than ten feet in front of them. It seemed like ever since they'd started running like this, two years ago, all the nights were dark. Each one more so than the last, until he felt like they were just stumbling towards some unknown destination, blind and terrified.

"Are you going to be good to drive soon? I think there's a gas station up ahead," he turned towards Star, who nestled in the passenger seat with her shawl tightly drawn about her. Even with the heater blasting full force on them both, they were always cold. Always.

She slowly lifted her head, smiling drowsily up at her companion, reaching up to brush her hair from her face, "do you think that's a good idea?"

"We don't really have much of a choice, Star. We need gas. If we don't get it now, we'll be stuck out in the middle of nowhere. At night." Neither of them wanted to take the risk to stop driving, but...the idea of being stranded with no church nearby to seek shelter in...was even worse.

"It's like the nights are getting longer these days," Star sighed, leaning up against her window and gazing out at what little she could see of the road in front of them, glancing up ahead to catch a glimpse of a tall glowing sign gradually come into view. A beacon.

"Did you hear something?" She jerked up, alert.

"Like what?" Michael's lips quirked into a bitter half-smile, "bike engines? Yeah. But we're probably just hearing things again." He only half-believed what he said. Sometimes it was true. Sometimes...well, sometimes it wasn't.

2 Years Ago

"Michael," Star's voice came out in a panicked whisper over the phone.

Michael sat up in bed and leaned over to switch on his bedside lamp. He hadn't heard from her in over a month, not since that summer night they'd killed David and the others. So it was a surprise to hear from the gypsy girl he thought didn't want anything to do with him, and an even bigger one to be woken from his sleep at 3 AM. He was lucky he picked it up first, before anyone else in the house was woken up.

"Do you know what time it is?" He croaked, rubbing at his burning eyes as they adjusted to the light of the lamp beside him. Not that he'd been in a terribly deep sleep anyway. The new bed was way too soft. It was murder on his back. He supposed it was better than sleeping the way David and his boys did it, though. Not that Michael had seen them in that state, but Sam had certainly repeated the story enough times for him to have a vague image burned into his mind of Marko thrashing and wailing while David, Paul, and Dwayne dangled around him from rusty pipes.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I just...I really need to come see you."

'Come see me?!' He wanted to blurt out, 'after you just up and ditched me, no word of where you'd gone, nothing?' Granted, their tryst had only lasted a few days. Barely even half a week. But waking up the morning after that nightmare, finding both Star and Laddie gone without so much as a good-bye note...it hurt. Maybe part of the pain was his pride. He wasn't sure. But if she was calling him like this, there was probably a good reason behind it. So Michael took a deep breath, and remained calm.

"Where are you right now?" He asked her quietly, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head.

"I'm at a payphone out by the old market. Don't worry, I've got a ride. And I'm sorry to call you like this. I'm sorry I didn't tell you why I was leaving. I'm sorry about everything, but I really don't think I've got much time. Listen, I need to know something. It's...it's important."

"Well, go ahead. Ask away. I'm all ears," Michael sighed, licking his lips. This wasn't really how he'd wanted to talk to her again, half-awake and grumpy, aching from a pulled muscle when he'd had to stumble across the wraparound porch the day before because Sam was dumb enough to try to lift his weight set without a spotter and nearly broke his own neck in the process.

For a moment, the line was silent, and he thought she'd hung up. "Star? You still there?"

"Michael. I need to know if you've seen them around anywhere."

In that moment he nearly dropped the phone, startled into complete alertness. "Why? ...Have you?"

"I asked first."

He wanted to hang up now. He wanted to slam the phone down and flip his lamp off, burrowing under his covers until he was so deep beneath them he hit China on the other side. But he didn't. Instead, Michael's grip on the receiver tightened until his knuckles turned white, "yeah. Yeah, I have. Once in awhile when I'm out with Sam on the boardwalk, just out of the corner of my eye. But I know I'm just being paranoid. They're dead, Star. They're dead." He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the words poured out from his mouth, as if he hadn't fully invested in pondering his greatest fear until someone else threw it right in his face.

"Okay. I was afraid of that. I'm coming over."

"...Why?" He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway. Because he desperately hoped he was wrong, and she just called because she'd had a bad dream and wanted to make sure it was nothing more than just that. An illusion drawn by her subconscious when she was locked away from the waking world.

"Because I've been seeing them too."

"...Shit."