Chapter 42
N ick was huddled over his batch of homemade flash-bangs when the transforming darkness swept over the land.
He hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He and Raven had slipped back into the forest and found a quiet, sheltered place within a copse of elms in which he could work by candlelight.
Crouched next to him, Raven had hugged herself with her thin arms and warned him in a quavering voice, “the darkness is coming; it’s going to be so cold,” and he’d had no clue what she was talking about.
The blackness fell over him like a heavy drop cloth. An icy blast hit him, as if he’d been placed in the open doorway of a walk-in freezer. Fingers tingling from the sudden lowering of temperature, he dropped the shotgun shell he’d been mining for gunpowder.
The rush of coldness subsided as suddenly as it had come.
But the darkness remained, gathered like a robe around their circle of candle flame.
Although the sun had finally set, the nightfall that had settled over the land was deeper than any Nick had ever seen.
Whatever strange enchantments that existed in Westbrook had enhanced the depth of the night, too.
“We’ve gotta be really careful now,” Raven said.
Nick didn’t ask why. He’s here , he thought with a shudder. It’s his time now.
Night creatures were singing. Nick heard the hoot of an owl, and sensed a fluttering of leathery wings above them in the treetops.
“We have enough of these,” Nick said. He had hand-crafted five firecrackers, each one trailed by a narrow fuse. “Here, you take two of them, and some matches.”
Raven stuffed the homemade explosives into her small, battered purse. They had taken several books of matches from the storehouse, and she kept one of those, too. As she filled her bag, she surveyed the night with a hooded gaze.
“We’ve got to get back to Westbrook,” Nick said. “Is there a safe route back? Does he stick to the roads?”
“Nowhere is safe,” she said. “But we stay away from the roads, for sure. He’ll be out on his horse.”
Nick remembered the horse, from his dream in the barn. How much of that feverish dream, as fantastical as it had been, might actually be real?
“And forget about this.” Raven blew out their candle; darkness encroached in their space. “We’ve got to find our way without it.”
“I can barely see my hand in front of my face,” Nick said.
“I know the general direction.” Raven grasped his hand. Her fingers were clammy with cool perspiration. “Once we start getting closer . . . you’ll see what I mean.”
They left behind their temporary refuge.
Nick had put his own flash-bangs in his pockets along with matches; he carried the shotgun over his shoulder.
He had only three shotgun shells remaining since he’d used the gunpowder in a few of them as fuel for his explosives. Every shot he had left needed to count.
Raven had Grandpa Lee’s rifle, but only a handful of ammo, too.
Nick thought about his grandfather as they crept together through the woods.
Had Grandpa Lee continued his strange nightly ritual of hunkering down in his house at nightfall, locking every window and door and waiting with a gun in his hands?
His practice had seemed so nuts before, the eccentricity of an isolated old man—but Nick knew better, now.
If he’d been forced to live on this land, with all its dark, terrible secrets, he would have done the same thing.
It ends tonight , Nick thought.
Raven stopped, and he nearly ran into her. His eyes had adjusted to the gloom; he saw her put her finger to her lips.
And then, she pointed.
He turned in the direction she indicated. At first, he didn’t see anything: only trees wrapped in darkness. As he continued to stare, however, he made out a soft, orange glow, like the faint shimmer of a cigarette, floating slowly along on waves of blackness.
“His marker,” Raven said in a tight whisper. Her mouth was right next to Nick’s ear. “Always glowing. Remember that.”
Nick swallowed. Although the glow came from perhaps a hundred yards away, he was afraid to speak for fear of being overheard. His heart boomed at a rapid clip, and he had the crazy notion that the Overseer might hear that, too.
“Looking for us, you think?” Nick dared to ask. His voice was so low he barely heard his own words.
“He’s looking for anyone who isn’t marked,” Raven said. “That’s all he does, all night long ’til dawn. He searches. I try to stay far, far away from that glow. So should you.”
He was about to tell her, I can’t; I have to kill him , but kept quiet .
He would have sounded like a frightened child claiming he was going to rip open the closet door and kill the bogeyman.
A raw, superstitious fear had taken hold of him, and he wasn’t sure how he would overcome it and perform the task that he knew in his heart waited in store for him.
They watched, still and silent, until the light drifted out of sight.