Chapter 282

The incoming curtain of sand swallowed everything in the Badlands. Dense grains of windblown grit churned irregularly in midair, rattling off the gas station’s metal frame with rapid-fire clacks.

The Bakkers’ off-road vehicles were parked in a half-encirclement, pressed tight against the station entrance. Under each vehicle, sturdy anchor spikes dropped down to lock the chassis in place, preventing the wind from flipping them.

Fine sand danced through the air, constantly pelting the windows and metal bodywork.