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They ride a large berth around the warehouse, avoiding line of sight to it as best they can.

When they reach the edge of the cloud, the Sheriff says, “All right. We leave the horses here.”

Fynn hops out of his saddle. “We should leave someone here to guard them. The horses are way more important than the tractor.

“Right. Noah. Stay with the horses. Astrid, Fynn. Let’s do this.”

As they step into the cloud, the Sheriff whispers, “From here on out, we don’t make a sound. Keep your eyes on each other, and whatever happens, we don’t split up. Let’s go.”

Astrid feels the same incredible fear flow through her as the dark fog envelops them. Her heart, pounding from the excitement of the upcoming fight, drops into her stomach. Next to her, she can see the Sheriff turn pale as well.

Just like last time, the fog seems to turn thicker as they enter and the world darkens. Astrid feels as though the sky itself is dropping down on her. Even though she’s only taken a few steps inside the fog, it’s like she’s walking through an invisible wall. Every fiber of her being tells her to leave. To turn and run. It’s a feeling of fear she has only ever felt during her last contact with the fog. Only this time, she has to force herself to enter.

‘It’s just for a few minutes. It’s just a few minutes. Just a few minutes…’

Even though the dark mist feels cold, she’s already drenched in sweat. Her entire body shivers, as though her muscles want to make it as difficult as possible for her to move forward. Still, seeing the others walk ahead gives her the willpower to soldier on.

They move past the buildings. Last time, Astrid was only inside the dark mass for a few seconds before Ranger turned and walked back out of it. This time is longer. As they move deeper into the dark mass, the fear is joined by a crushing feeling of dread. The air is cold, and every breath feels like it takes a bit of her and rips it out as she exhales.

Astrid keeps her eyes peeled, even though fog makes it difficult to see down the street. There is no movement, aside from the Sheriff and the wafts of mist swirling around them.

Behind her, she can hear the dull thuds of Fynn’s heavy boots and the quiet clicking of Oskar’s claws on the hard asphalt. Aside from her own heavy breathing, their footsteps are the only contrast to the silence of the town. Her ears feel deprived of noise as they search for any sound.

The buildings are black towers that look frozen in time. The bookstore to their left still has an open sign hanging on the door. Almost like a patron could step out of it at any moment.

A disturbance in the fog. Astrid almost misses the minuscule movement, before her eyes snap onto the barely visible humanoid figure moving through the door. She can barely see it against the dark-gray fog, but it seems to be made of darkness that has thickened slightly to give it a ghostly black form. As quickly as it appeared, the figure fades back into the cloud.

“What was that?” she whispers. It takes all of her willpower to suppress the urge to turn and run. Staying focused is incredibly difficult, as her mind does its best to drown her in that unnatural fear and dread.

The Sheriff whispers, “Keep going.”

With wide eyes, Astrid tears her gaze away from where the figure just disappeared.

They continue until the Sheriff's hand suddenly snaps up. Astrid almost walks straight into the other elf but freezes in place when she sees what’s ahead. There’s something standing in the middle of the street, a little over a hundred paces away. While the other figure was no more than a barely visible phantom, this vaguely humanoid shape almost looks like a solid mass of black mist. Unlike the slow, random, yet elegant movements of the cloud around them, the dark mass that makes up the entity’s body jerks and twitches randomly as parts of it dissolve into the fog, only to suddenly snap back onto its core. The core of the creature is made up of shards of dark gray material that quiver, animated by some unseen force. The weird, almost alien movements have an odd and dangerous beauty to them. Astrid can’t take her eyes off the quivering form, as it stands between two cars that hide its lower body.

It doesn’t seem like the entity has noticed them. Astrid wants to ask what the hell that thing is, but her mouth is frozen shut. ‘We need to turn around!’ is the only thought that enters her mind.

The Sheriff takes a quivering breath and pulls them around a corner. Astrid’s eyes remain fixed on the creature until it disappears behind a wall.

As soon as the entity is out of sight, Astrid whispers, “What. The hell. Was that?!”

The Sheriff snaps, “How should we know?! Be quiet!”

Their march through the cloud feels like it takes half an eternity, but the fog finally begins to thin as they sneak between the industrial buildings.

Stepping out of it is like stepping out of a dungeon. The air instantly feels a dozen degrees warmer and the sun makes everything glow. After the bleak and lifeless darkness of the fog, the world looks vibrant and alive. The crushing dread disappears, leaving Astrid feeling lighter than ever before. She is still panting and her clothes are drenched in sweat, but the darkness is behind them.

“All right. That’s that...” the Sheriff whispers. “Now let’s get that tractor.”

The large industrial buildings provide good cover and hide their approach.

They can see the Dreischell factory building across the road. The main entrance consists of a large glass façade that provides them with excellent vision of the lobby within. Without any electric lights, half of the large room is illuminated by the sun, while the rest lies in ominous twilight. There’s not a single soul in sight and the doors are closed, but a smashed glass panel shows how the thieves got inside. The glass shards have been cleaned up.

As soon as the Sheriff gives the order, they sprint across the street. Fynn keeps his rifle trained on the second-floor windows, while Astrid and the Sheriff make sure no one appears in the lobby. They slow down right before entering the hole.

There is something unsettling about the quiet inside that reminds Astrid of the ominous silence of the fog. They know the thieves are somewhere inside, but they don’t know where. Astrid slows her fast and shallow breaths, completely filling her lungs before exhaling. ‘Stay calm.’

The Sheriff leads the group along the wall. They are about to head upstairs, when they hear a loud clatter from a nearby door, along with muffled voices. A smile creeps across the Sheriff's face.

They sneak to the door.

The Sheriff takes position next to it, her gun at the ready. More or less understanding what she wants to do, Astrid takes position on the other side, while Fynn stands broad legged in front of the door.

The Sheriff reaches for the handle, and Astrid cocks the hammer of her revolver with a quiet click.

As the elf's hand is about to reach the door handle, they hear footsteps inside. A muffled voice says something incomprehensible, and a moment later, the handle is pulled down.

Fynn tenses, his finger ready to pull the trigger of his shotgun barrel. Astrid is ready to burst into the room, guns blazing. Her heart is pounding and her focus is on nothing but the gun and the door.

Whoever's on the other side of the door pulls it open, and for a split second, he stares down the barrels of Fynn's gun before Fynn pulls the trigger. The shotgun barrel unleashes a cloud of soft steel. The weapon's furious roar rings in Astrid's ears, while the force of the shot kills the man instantly and throws him back into the room. Astrid steps through the door first, her pistol raised and ready to shoot.

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Through the door, she sees a few red shapes. She steps left to allow the others to enter, and while she does so, she pulls the trigger. The loud shot adds to the ringing in her ears and makes her close her eyes. Screams and the sounds of people moving fill the room. While Astrid opens her eyes again, she hears the Sheriff yell, “Cease fire! Cease fire!”

Astrid realizes there are more than four people in the room. It’s almost a dozen and none of them are armed. Her eyes fix on the man she just shot. She aimed at his chest, but pulled the gun downwards while shooting. The close range did not allow her to miss and now a red stain is expanding away from his stomach. The man lies on the ground, twitching. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, but no sound escapes his lips.

The other people scream and stumble over each other to get out of the room. On the other side of the glass wall that separates the workshop from the office they’re in right now, someone comes running down a flight of stairs. His hunting boots clang against the steel steps. Astrid doesn’t have time to feel regret or sorrow, before the Sheriff fires her gun. White cracks explode across the glass wall as the bullet pierces it with a high-pitched crunch. The person behind it dives behind a workbench.

“They're down here!" she hears Lukas yell from cover.

Above them, an armed man runs along a catwalk with his head ducked. He jumps behind a few boxes and raises his rifle.

“Sniper on that walkway!” Astrid yells and sprints through a random door. While another shot goes off somewhere, she finds herself alone in a cafeteria. To her right, a flight of stairs leads upward.

‘The Sheriff said my revolver is much better than their weapons if I'm close.’

With quick steps, she races up the stairs and into another office area. Below her, a dog barks and the Sheriff lets out a scream. Fynn’s shotgun barrel goes off, followed by a hundred small pings as the pellets ricochet off the steel machinery and strike the sheet metal walls.

Astrid can’t see the sniper anymore, as she runs through the office area to avoid his deadly gaze. She finally reaches another door that leads back onto the catwalk. There he is. Standing on the walkway with his rifle aimed at the rooms below. He’s fixated on his scope and hasn’t noticed her yet.

From behind a table, Astrid takes aim. Her heart is pounding in her chest and her veins are flooded with adrenaline. Hands wet with sweat, she raises the revolver.

‘Stay calm,’ she tells herself and looks down the iron sight. The red dot of the front sight aligns with the notch of the rear sight over his chest. There is nothing but the man in front of her and the gun in her hands.

Behind her, someone yells, “Nooo! Watch out!” Something strikes the side of her head. A white light explodes behind her eyes and pain fires into her skull from every direction. Her mind is blank, and she instinctively tightens her grip on the pistol. A shot she barely registers goes off.

Stunned from the blow, Astrid’s body falls sideways, but the adrenaline allows her to regain control in the blink of an eye. As her body falls, she turns to face her attacker. The woman that hit her has already lowered the metal table lamp. She obviously expected the blow to knock Astrid unconscious like they always do in movies.

Astrid meets her gaze.

The woman’s eyes fill with fear, but Astrid doesn’t give her the opportunity to raise or drop the lamp.

She aims her gun, and without another thought, her finger moves back, pulling the trigger.

The bullet hits the woman in the chest, throwing her over.

With ringing ears, Astrid turns back to face the sniper, but doesn't dare look over the table. ‘Damn that woman. That hunter must’ve heard all this. If I look up now, he’s gonna blow my head off. What do I do? What do I do?’

Behind her, the woman makes a gargling sound, causing Astrid to snap her eyes back to where she lies, gasping and coughing blood. Astrid’s head is still pounding like a drum, but after a few short breaths, the pain begins to fade.

‘All right. Stay calm. First I need to get out of here.’ As quickly as she can, Astrid starts to crawl away, using the tables as cover.

The building is quiet. She realizes that she hasn't heard any gunfire since she shot the woman. The silence concerns her. She doesn't know where the others are.

‘Did one of us die… or am I the only one left?’ Astrid risks a quick peek out from behind a table and sees that the sniper has disappeared. From her position, her view is limited, but she's afraid to call out. She waits, listening for anything that might give away an enemy's position.

After a few moments, she hears someone call out, “Stop. Hold your fire. I want to parley.” It's Lukas, calling out from between the workshop machinery.

“Then talk, dirtbag,” the Sheriff yells from somewhere within the office space.

“No one else has to die and we don’t need to waste our precious ammunition on each other. I'm going to throw you the keys for the tractor, then we're going to leave through the fire escape. After that, we'll never see each other again.”

A long moment of silence follows Lukas’s words.

Astrid is too pumped up from the stress of the fight and dulled from the blow to her head to really think about either option. Listening to them talk is already painful enough for her beaten brain.

After what feels like half an eternity, the Sheriff yells, “Fine.” Astrid doesn't hear the keys fly through the air and hit the ground, but a moment later the Sheriff yells, “Now get out of here. I never want to see your faces again.”

Astrid hears the fire escape being thrown open somewhere beneath her.

It takes her a moment to realize the fight is over.

“Astrid?” the Sheriff calls across the workshop.

“Yes?”

“Thank God you're alive. Are they gone?”

Astrid stands up. Her head spins from the sudden movement, but not enough for her to lose her balance. She stumbles to the window and sees three armed men and a boy running across the field. She almost considers taking aim, but aside from the fact that she wouldn't hit anyway, she feels tired. Both physically and mentally. “Three men and a boy running away,” she yells over her shoulder.

The Sheriff replies, “Good. Let's get out outa here.”

Astrid turns away from the window. She drags her feet towards the stairs. On her way, she glances at the woman that saved the thief. She's no longer moving and a red spot stains the carpet beneath her.

Astrid doesn't have the strength to wonder why she died to save that man. She stumbles down the stairs to the others.

“Are you all right? Did you get shot?” the Sheriff asks as soon as she sees Astrid.

Astrid shakes her head. “No. Just got hit on the head with a table lamp. Let's just… Let's just get out of here.”

Her eyes flick to the place where the man she shot dropped. A trail of blood leads away from the spot. She looks at the Sheriff. “Where’s Fynn?”

The Sheriff looks a bit taken aback, then yells, “Fynn? Are you there?”

“Right here,” he says from behind them. Astrid’s heart skips a beat. For a moment, she thought he’d been killed.

Fynn takes care to avoid the blood on the floor, while Oskar just trots through the red puddle.

The Sheriff scowls, obviously just as relieved as Astrid to find them alive. “All right. Let’s go.”

“Who were those other people? Why were they with the thieves?” Fynn asks, while they go get the tractor.

The Sheriff replies, “Maybe they picked them up along the way. Maybe they found them here. Who cares?”

They leave the dark building and step into the sunlight. The fresh air helps Astrid’s massive headache. She doesn’t know what time it is, but assumes that it must be around noon.

The other people that were in the building with the thieves have disappeared, leaving the factory just as abandoned as the fog behind it. Luckily, the red tractor is still there, haphazardly parked in the middle of the empty parking lot, unharmed.

Fynn runs to it, climbs into the driver's seat and says, “I'll drive. Could you guys go get the horses?” He turns the key in the ignition, but instead of the familiar roar, the engine lets out a loud stutter and dies. Astrid's heart sinks like a rock.

Fynn scowls and tries to start the engine again with no success. “Ugh. It's out of gas.”

The Sheriff snorts. “No wonder they gave it up so easily.”

“What do we do now?” Astrid asks. The complication causes her headache to worsen.

The Sheriff groans and rubs her forehead. “Things just can’t be simple, can they? Let's go get the horses before something eats them. Then we can look for a gas station.”

Luckily, Noah and the horses are still exactly where they left them.

The Sheriff pulls a map out of her vest and opens it. She squints and struggles to read the details on the page. “Let’s see. The nearest gas station would be here, but it’s inside the town. I would prefer not to enter the fog if it can be avoided, so the nearest gas station that’s not in a town would be this one.” She points at a spot on the map.

Noah checks the map and says, “Hey Astrid, I think that’s the place we met.”

Astrid also takes a look at the page. She has no idea how to read physical maps, and the tiny texts that describe the towns are very difficult to discern. The only name her dyslexic brain instantly recognizes is High Rock.

“It’s pretty far,” Fynn notes.

“It is,” the Sheriff agrees, “but unless you want to enter the fog, it’s not like we have a choice.”

Astrid doesn’t feel like entering the dark fog at all. Riding through the more or less dangerous, but definitely beautiful forest sounds far more appealing than the draining darkness and dread of the cloud.

They mount their horses and start making their way towards the gas station.

The Sheriff tells Noah everything that happened at the factory. Once she’s done, she turns to everyone and asks, “Was it the right call to let them go?”

“Absolutely!” Noah replies. “There would only have been more bloodshed, nothing more.”

The Sheriff shakes her head. “The knowledge that these criminals got away unpunished, while several innocent bystanders died in the crossfire… It just feels wrong.”

The man and woman she shot come to Astrid’s mind, but her headache reminds her that at least the woman wasn’t an innocent bystander.

“Exactly,” Noah says. “We should have just started with diplomacy, instead of going in guns blazing. It should feel wrong that we killed those people for no reason, other than that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Astrid shakes her head. “I shot an unarmed man, but we thought there were armed people behind that door. What were we supposed to do?”

The Sheriff nods. “Exactly. Imagine if we hadn’t breached like that and they had been armed. There is no point in thinking about it.”

Noah’s mouth falls open. “What do you mean there’s no point in thinking about it? What we did was illegal, Sheriff. We performed an illegal operation and killed several unarmed people. In any other situation, we would be put on trial for manslaughter, if not actual murder, and probably a dozen other things.”

The Sheriff looks angry as she says, “You said it. In any other situation. In any other situation, we would have called in special forces that would have taken care of this. I also wouldn’t have tits and there wouldn’t be monsters running around. We also wouldn’t be riding through the forest to get diesel for an ancient tractor. So that’s that.”

Noah shakes his head and looks away.