![]() Not a single person stirred, and even after rolling down the windows he didn’t hear so much as a stray dog howling in the void. The grill was closed for the night, and the bar lacked so much as one vehicle in front of it. Gareth gave cursory glances to his surroundings, the few working streetlamps illuminating the empty streets and closed buildings. It was another fifteen minutes of driving in darkness and silence before he made his way past the faded homes on the outskirts. Thankfully Fort Ridge was not too far ahead. His car forced itself uphill and through the steep curve of the cracked road, the engine griping as if it was as tired of this journey as he was. ![]() He’d spend the night somewhere decent and finish his journey in the morning before returning back to what now passed as his home. He knew the route, and he knew the better places to stop. At this point the trip was a formality, a ritual. He could already hear his father-in-law warning him to be careful when driving onto the rez at night, but that didn’t matter anymore. Once a welcoming sight, it now felt as hollow as the decaying structures that had littered the roads and small towns up until then. ![]() Along the way he passed the sign informing him he was now entering the reservation. He counted it in his head as he continued down the endless, winding road through the rolling hills of the Dakotas. Another abandoned homestead passed by in the dead of night, the rotten buildings illuminated only by the lights of Gareth’s beat-up Saturn. ![]()
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