"Heard you pull in," she said, her voice like sandpaper. "Sounded like a dying tractor. You’re lucky. I’ve got exactly one left on the shelf."

"I need an alternator," Lucas said, his voice shaking slightly from the cold. "2008 model. Four-cylinder."

She disappeared into the back, the sounds of metal clanging against metal echoing through the dim warehouse. Lucas checked his phone again. 3% battery. If this part didn’t work, he was stranded in a town he didn't know, with no way to call for help.

He pulled out his phone, the screen cracked and dimming. He typed four desperate words into the search bar: .

Lucas slid his credit card across the counter. He held his breath as the ancient card reader dialed out, clicking and whirring. Approved.