46

Emma smiles and touches your arm. Heather leans back and sighs.

"That's a nice sentiment, but I don't want any of us to die, and those cars are bad news," says Heather.

"We can't afford to backtrack and take another route. One of us will have to get in a car and drive it out of the way, while the others stand watch. The middle one seems like the only reasonable choice," you say.

"Wait, you keep saying, 'one of us.' If you think I'm getting out, that's insane," says Heather and puts her seatbelt on with a loud click.

You glance at Emma. Her lips are thin and eyebrows arched. She stares at the blockade, and her hands grip the dashboard as if trying to push it away.

"So who is going?" she asks.