“Yeah,” Owen said, forcing a polite smile. “Road’s not looking great,” he said. “Wouldn’t surprise me if there are more landslides tonight,” she replied, handing the clipboard back. “You take care, now.”
He nodded, thanked her, and jogged back to the van. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the air suddenly cooler. As he drove away, the wipers squeaked dryly across the windshield, their rhythm marking the quiet that had settled over everything.