I pull over in a small town for gas, and at a late-night deli for food. There is no hostel, and I'm just as glad. Stopping right now will only put us in unnecessary danger.
We park in an abandoned farmyard to eat and have a quick rest, the hulking, empty house shadowing us from sight. Sage devours his food as quickly as he had before, though he seems more aware and less savage about it. I allow a few hours to close my eyes in the shelter of the empty home and crumbling outbuildings. We probably shouldn't stop, but I have to catch rest when I can. I can't burn out until I've found what I'm looking for.
A solid five hours of sleep does me a world of good, though I shudder at the black holes of the home's dark windows, feeling as though it's watching us, waiting to see what we'll do. Abandoned places have always given me the creeps, reminding me of years of loneliness I'll never get back.