I turned off the engine. Silence fell. All I could hear was the metal cooling with soft clicks, and far below, the river still roared. We sat in silence. No one said a word — our tongues simply refused to work after the terror we'd just survived. The mountains and that salvaged sunset spoke for us. Then I started the engine. My hands no longer shook. We rolled on, into the deepening twilight, leaving behind the blazing sky and those cursed turns where death had breathed down our necks. Now — only forward, toward the stars.