Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
I’d just zipped up my jacket, ready to slip out the front door, when Jessie’s voice hissed at me from the shadows of the porch.
“Going somewhere?” She stepped into the pale lamplight, arms folded tight, her hair still wild from sleep.
I froze. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
“Visiting you.”
“I was just going… out. I have to meet someone.”
Jessie eyed my shoes, then my face. “You’re not going anywhere alone.”
Before I could answer, Nico, Robert, and Rosalie materialized behind her. “Who are you meeting?” Nico asked.
I eyed the state of Jessie, Nico and Robert.
Their arms and hands were patched with bandages, and each had scratches on their faces.
We hadn’t gone into great detail about what had happened to us individually in the woods.
Didn’t know if we ever would. They probably hid it from their families too.
Contractually, we were obligated to. Although perhaps Rosalie was in on something, given the concern swimming in her eyes.
“An acquaintance,” I sighed. “Someone I met at work. She wants to meet me, for some reason.”
“Don’t ditch us,” Robert said quietly. “Not tonight.”
I glanced between them. “Really, I’ll… I’ll be fine. You should all rest.”
Jessie shook her head, fierce in a way that told me she’d barely held it together all day. “You’re not fine. None of us are. You’re not meeting anyone in the dark, alone. I’m coming. End of discussion.”
Nico gave a half-smile, eyes flickering away from mine. “Might as well. Can’t sleep anyway. Zina’s asleep.”
Robert drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll go, too. I… can’t sit in that house anymore. Not after today.”
I tried to protest, but my voice faltered. I didn’t have the strength. Arguing with them was useless even on the best of days.
“Fine,” I murmured, giving up. “Let’s go together.”
Rosalie slipped quietly down the path behind Robert, wordless but resolute. Jessie’s arm linked through mine, her grip tight.
As we stepped out into the street, Jessie whispered, “I keep hearing his voice in my head. Like it’s waiting.”
I swallowed, feeling her fear wrap around mine, all of our shadows overlapping in the streetlight as we headed for the station. I tried to focus on tonight’s subject: Miranda. I hoped she wouldn’t lose her nerve at the sight of a whole pack trailing after me.
According to my map, Beldock Cove was a half-hour ride away, tucked out on the mainland by the sea. As we checked through the ring barriers, my chest tightened, half-expecting alarms or questions. But of course nothing happened. It wasn’t illegal to go out late. My nerves were just shot.
The shuttle was nearly empty. We sat in tense silence, the humming overhead lights making everyone look sickly.
Jessie kept picking at a scrape on her wrist, tearing at a loose bit of skin until it bled.
Nico stared at the floor, his foot jittering against the seat leg.
Robert didn’t even try to make jokes; he just leaned back with his eyes half-closed, flinching every time the shuttle’s brakes hissed.
Nobody wanted to talk about the woods. It lived just beneath the surface, making every silence feel longer, every breath a little more uncertain.
When we finally reached the cove, the platform was deserted but for a single streetlight buzzing in the night. The heavy hush and crash of waves lulled somewhere beyond the darkness.
Jessie pressed close to me, her voice a hoarse whisper. “You sure we should be here?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “But I hope Miranda does.”
None of us moved for a long moment, letting the wind from the ocean chill our sweat-damp skin.
The night pressed in, the breeze sharp and briny, carrying a tangle of salt and cold that made us all shiver.
Even though we’d come as a group, the world felt vast, empty—too much space, too much dark, as if we could be swept out to sea at any moment.
I wondered if Miranda was already watching, waiting for us to step out of the light.
A shadow shifted at the far edge of the platform. A figure detached itself from the darkness and stepped into the thin beam of the streetlight, lowering a hood.
“Miranda,” I called quietly, taking in the nervous flick of her eyes as she scanned our pale faces, the quick swipe at a strand of her dark-red hair.
She looked tense, her gaze lingering a little too long on our scrapes and bandages. Her eyes darted to Robert, then Nico, then to Jessie, who had her arms wrapped tight around her own body, and finally to Rosalie, who kept glancing at the shadows just beyond the station.
“These are my friends,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Robert, Nico, Jessie, and Rosalie.”
Miranda’s expression pinched. “You all look like you’ve been through hell,” she whispered, searching my face for an explanation. “What happened?”
Nobody answered.
I forced a thin smile. “It’s a long story,” I said. “Not really for now.”
Miranda’s gaze lingered, concern flickering across her face, but she let it drop, sensing she wouldn’t get more. Instead, she nodded toward the dark exit at the end of the platform. “Come on. I brought a flashlight. The path’s not easy at night.”
The group fell in behind her, wordless. Even as we moved off the concrete and onto the narrow dirt path, I could feel Miranda’s questions trailing us like a second shadow.
I slipped ahead to keep pace with her as she switched on her flashlight, its narrow beam slicing through the shadows. Every crunch of gravel underfoot seemed too loud in the quiet.
“So,” I said, “are you going to tell me what this is about?”
Miranda’s face was set, eyes scanning the darkness. “I will. But it’s easier if I show you.”
We pressed on, the path steepening as the scrub closed in on either side. No one else spoke. Jessie stuck close to Rosalie and Robert, and I could hear Nico’s uneven breathing just behind me. We ducked through a gap in the brush, Miranda’s light sweeping the way, branches clawing at our clothes.
For five tense minutes we trudged in silence, the sea wind growing sharper, saltier, the crash of waves closer now, somewhere just out of sight. Miranda finally slowed, then stopped and crouched, motioning us all to stay low.
She angled her flashlight toward a cluster of jagged rocks at the base of a looming cliff, its face glistening faintly with mist.
“Watch that space,” she whispered, eyes flicking to her ring for the time. 11:54 p.m.
The group huddled together in the dark, breaths coming short. Whatever we were waiting for, it was apparently not ordinary.
The seconds stretched. Jessie, fidgeting with her sleeve, broke the silence first. “So… where are you from?”
I glanced at Miranda, unsure if she’d want to share, but her eyes lingered on the rocks as she answered. “We lived by the Andes,” she said quietly. “You know where that is?”
The word stirred memories—maps from old lessons. “Mountains,” I murmured, “to the south of where we grew up. Not that far, really.”
Miranda’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Practically neighbors?”
Nico, trying to lighten the mood, added, “But you speak English?”
She nodded. “My heritage is a mix—immigrants from the North, locals from the South. Spanish and English, mostly. Sometimes a little Portuguese, when my abuela got mad.”
Robert’s voice cut in, rough-edged. “We’re from the . Our founders were from the North.”
Miranda turned to him, her eyes softening. “The ? That’s…” She paused, searching for the word. “Bold. Not many would choose it. At least, not if they had a choice.”
Robert gave a crooked half-smile. “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly choose it. Got stuck there thanks to whoever thought it was a good idea.”
Miranda hesitated. “What happened?”
A shadow passed over Robert’s face. “Nomads. Found us. Forced us out.”
Miranda’s voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the wind. “I’m sorry.”
I remembered hearing her in the furnaces, something about floods. I found myself asking, “What made you leave?”
Miranda’s face tightened, the memory close to the surface. “A storm. The worst in generations. The flooding…” She shook her head, her words trailing off, shoulders rigid with remembered terror. “It washed away everything. Home, family. We barely escaped.”
An impulse struck me, and I reached out, fingers brushing her hand. She gave me a grateful, fleeting smile.
None of us said anything for a long moment, each measuring loss in our own way—some at the hands of men, some at the hands of nature. The breeze off the sea pressed in, chilly and indifferent, and it was hard to know which kind of disaster was easier to survive.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Rosalie murmured, her voice tight, “but… who are they?”
All of us turned, following her finger toward the rocks Miranda had told us to watch.
At first, I saw nothing but shadows and shifting blackness—then the moon slid out from behind a cloud, and I caught the movement: three figures, black from head to foot, picking their way along the jagged outcrop at the cliff base.
They carried black boxes, hoisted almost protectively over their heads.
We froze, barely breathing as we watched them reach the cliff’s base. Then, just as suddenly, they vanished, slipping out of sight, as if swallowed by the stone.
“Who are they?” I breathed.
“And where did they just disappear to?” Nico whispered.
Miranda’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
“That’s the question. They show up at this spot, same time most nights…
though this is the first time I’ve noticed them carrying things.
I’ve tried to figure out what they’re doing, but they’re careful.
Never a wasted step, always keeping low. It’s like they don’t want to be seen.”
Robert leaned forward, voice hushed. “How did you even spot them in the first place? This can’t be your idea of a fun night.”
Miranda’s lips twitched. “No, but it’s quieter here than Dankworth Isle, where I live. I started walking down here at night. Needed some air, needed to feel like I could breathe. That’s when I noticed them. And look… more are coming.”
Another trio emerged from the shadows, slipping across the rocks with the same silent efficiency. They, too, carried boxes. In moments, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving no trace.
“They must be entering a tunnel or cave system,” Miranda muttered, squinting into the gloom.
“I haven’t seen the entrance, but I know it’s there.
It’s become… an obsession for me, honestly.
I can’t figure out why anyone would creep around like this on some sort of schedule, not unless they had something to hide. ”
Jessie’s voice was barely more than a breath. “Have you ever seen anyone come back out?”
Miranda shook her head. “No. I’ve got work, I can’t just camp here all night. But I assume they do eventually.”
The group fell silent, the only sounds the wind whipping off the water and the steady rush of the tide.
“So what now?” I asked. “You want to follow them?”
Miranda’s eyes met mine, steady and intent. “Unless you’ve got a better idea. I doubt it’s illegal to go for a walk on the rocks...”
Jessie exhaled, her hands tight at her sides. “Well? If we’re doing this, let’s do it.”
No one needed to say more. We gathered ourselves, hearts thumping, and picked our way off the path, each footstep drawing us closer to whatever waited among the rocks.