Not fear. Certainty. Ahead of us, the mist begins flowing against the wind. Leaves rise from the forest floor without anything touching them. The trees themselves seem to lean inward.
The Hollow has found us.
I slowly flex my hands.
"Positions."
Carys moves exactly where we planned. Sayer takes his place beside her. I step forward until I stand alone between them and the deepening fog.
My breathing slows. Technology brought us to the edge. From here…
The wolf takes over. I bare my teeth as the first dark distortion begins to form between the ancient trees.
"Let's finish this."
23
CARYS
OCTOBER 26 ~ 5 DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN
There comes a point in every investigation when there are no more questions left to ask.
Only choices. The Hollow waits ahead of us. Even from here, I know it’s there. Not physically. Emotionally.
The place itself seems to breathe beneath the layers of dead leaves blanketing the forest floor. Ancient oaks twist overhead like arthritic fingers clawing at a gray October sky, their bare branches creaking softly whenever the wind shifts.
Except there isn't any wind. Not here. Not inside the Hollow. The mist hangs unnaturally still.
Every instinct tells me we're standing on the edge of something older than the town itself.
Rhett finishes one final circuit around the small clearing we'd chosen as our staging point.
He checks sight lines. Escape routes. The position of every tree large enough to provide cover. He isn't stalling. He's making certain that if this goes wrong, we'll have every possible advantage.
Sayer sits quietly on a fallen log, eyes closed. Listening. Feeling. Tracking whatever invisible current has been calling him since he appeared on my doorstep.
I find myself looking at my son without wondering whether this is all some elaborate hallucination.
He is here. He is real. And I'm going to make sure he stays that way.
I look toward Rhett.
"We need a minute."
He studies my face. Then nods once.
"Sayer."
The boy opens his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Stay here."
"I know."
"We won't be far."