It was getting dark when Jack pulled the Ford into a highway petrol station. He woke Jim up.

“Toilet. Go! I’ll head to the café as soon as I’ve filled her up.”

As he poured, Jack noticed a commotion inside a parked car. Heading inside to pay the bill, he was startled to see a bloodied hand smear the car’s windscreen. He rushed to get help.

Indoors, Jack stopped, stunned. As the Beastie Boys’ ‘Body Movin’’ played over speakers, blood-soaked customers fed upon Jim’s still form. When Jack dropped his keys, the customers looked up, snarled, and lunged towards him.