"What type of pack is Thunderstrike?" I asked from the backseat of the car. Next to me was a bag of our supplies and a change of clothes.
We were on our way to Thunderstrike at the first sign of daylight, after we had an early breakfast. It was hard not to think about what would happen if we failed on our mission to procure food.
Once again Damon was in the driver's seat, but this time, Blaise was the one riding shotgun. He had recovered enough from his wounds and he would not be dissuaded from making the trip, despite Damon warning him that the ride would be long and monotonous.
This new pack was so far away from us that we had to drive at least 6 hours to get there. They lived over the mountains; I had to roll down the windows to get some fresh mountain air to combat the car sickness.
