The stolen pistol pressed against Alex's thigh. She shouldn't have brought the gun with her. It would only tie her back to the sheriff's office and the mess she'd left behind. She should get rid of it. Alex reached for the pistol, pressed a finger against its hard frame. But she couldn't bring herself to pick it up. Instead, she tapped her finger against the plastic, following the rhythm of the heartbeat that rushed through her ears.
What was happening to her? Even now, she didn't want to get rid of the weapon. She felt an urge to hold the pistol close, in case the danger hadn't passed. Alex couldn't deny the possibility that this wasn't over.
It was all Seth's fault. Back at the sheriff's office, she'd thought that she'd escaped the horror of Eldridge Creek. But of course, Seth had to turn that smidgen of safety into a blood bath.
Now the sheriff's office was gone, replaced by a smoking pile of ash. It was stupid to burn the building. What had she been thinking? Destroying the evidence. Leaving no trace. Who did that help? If anything, it only benefited Owen. He was the one who wanted to hide his cult from the authorities.
Alex didn't need to hide. After all, she'd done nothing wrong. Okay, maybe that wasn't true. But all her actions had been reasonable, considering the circumstances. Unlike Seth, who solved all his problems with a shotgun and a stick of dynamite.
Perhaps the violence was justified. Seth had been right about the Sheriff. In the end, Barke was one of Owen's pawns, and they'd never be safe in his custody. But their escape had left dozens of innocent deputies dead. So no, Seth's brutality was wrong and disturbing and it wasn't the way to bring Owen to justice.
Even as she condemned Seth, she felt an itch in her chest. An urge to nestle the pistol in the crook of her hand, to wrap her finger around the trigger. It was the same feeling she'd felt at Eldridge Creek, while she was chasing after David. The call to violence.
The parasite squirmed in Alex's gut, and it wanted blood.
Alex had to deny that cursed slug. Whatever it was doing to her, it couldn't be good. And she only had one parasite living within her. Seth had at least three, so no wonder why he had no problem slaughtering the innocent. Leaving him behind had been the right thing to do.
The right thing to do. That didn't make it any easier. After all, this entire trip had been her fault. She'd been the one filming the documentary. She'd been the one to speak with Jess and arrange the visit. She'd been the one to hire Seth, and only for a hundred bucks at that.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asked.
Alex looked up, blinking away the crust from her eyes. Fields passed on either side, along with the occasional stretch of woods. Fog drifted across the windshield, lit up by the car's headlights.
"Talk about what?"
"About the journal." Will nodded toward the notebook, which sat over Alex's lap. "Say anything interesting?"
"Not really."
Alex had read some of the notebook. Well, she'd read the summary page, but she hadn't had the focus to get any further. Though the little she'd read did explain some of Seth's reasoning. For example, the bit about yellow eyes. That was how Seth had recognized the Sheriff as one of Owen's slaves.
"Hey." Will pointed to the remains of his right arm, which was pressed against the ignition. "What's this called?"
"What?"
"My arm, the chopped-off bit. I've been calling it a stump, but that sounds wrong. I’m sure there’s a proper medical term. Something a bit more respectful."
Alex sighed. "I don't know."
"The next time I've got a phone signal, that will be the first thing I look up."
"You're right. Make that a top priority."
They sat in silence after that. What more was there to say? All Alex had to do was lay back and wait until she could call the police. Was calling the police even their best option? Owen could have more pawns hidden within the local law enforcement. Maybe it would be better to call the FBI instead.
Yeah, the FBI would be safer. Alex didn't know how to contact them, but she could look it up as soon as she had a phone signal. Which meant more waiting.
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The car crested over a hill. On the horizon, an orange glow lit the fog. A streetlight of some kind. Will slowed down, drifting closer to the light. It was a gas station. A very small one, with only two pumps and a small building nestled against the valley between two hills, with decaying siding and an awning over some rocking chairs. A boxy green van was parked to the side, the only other vehicle they'd seen since leaving the sheriff's office.
Will drove the car into the shoulder and pulled to a stop.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked. “Do we need gas?”
“No, but they might have a phone. We could go inside and ask for help.”
Maybe. Alex didn’t like it though. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, this might be the only gas station for miles. And if it was, there was a good chance Owen would have enslaved the owner. They couldn’t trust anybody. Besides, Alex didn’t know the phone number to contact the FBI.
“Come on,” Will said. He pointed to a sign over the building, offering fresh barbecue 24/7. “I could go for some food.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Are you sure we can make it back to the university without running out of gas?”
“Um, yeah. About that. With my ability, I don’t think I need gas. I ran out on my chainsaw ages ago, but it still works fine. It’s like the engine is running off my heartbeat. So if you’re worried about fuel, perhaps some barbecue—”
“Shut it,” Alex said. “Come on, let’s keep going.”
The car crept back onto the road. As they passed, Alex stared out at the gas station. Under the awning, the doorway was pitch black, and within that darkness, she could have sworn yellow eyes were staring back at her.
Alex shivered.
“I was only half joking about the food,” Will said. “I really am hungry. These tendrils might be powerful, but they use a lot of my energy.”
“Are you sure it's not the blood loss? Or the fact we didn’t eat dinner?”
“Hey. You think I’m making this shit up? Alien parasites and zombies and a fucking moth man, and you don’t blink an eye. But the idea that I’m hungry, now that’s hard to believe. I lost an arm, for Christ’s sake, and now I’ve got tentacles coming out of my…” Will gestured at his stump.
“I believe that you’re hungry,” Alex said. “I am too. And thirsty and tired.”
Alex leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. But she was too anxious to lay still for more than a few seconds. There were too many things to do anyway. As soon as she had a phone signal, she had to call the FBI, explain what had happened, again. And they probably wouldn't believe her, so she'd have to convince them that she wasn't crazy. The whole thing would be a massive headache.
While she waited, she should plan her approach. Her first confession to Redding had come out a jumbled mess, and that certainly hadn't helped her case. Perhaps Jess's journal could help Alex order her thoughts. There was also the vial with the meteorite fragment and the lanyard.
Alex held up the lanyard and twisted it until it reflected the headlights. It was the name tag of a professor at Shelby State. A Dr. Thomas Rose. She didn’t recognize the name. Why did Jess include this in her box of clues? And more importantly, how did she get the lanyard in the first place? This Dr. Rose must have been on Eldridge Creek. Perhaps working with Owen.
“Do you mind if I turn on some music?” Will asked.
Alex shrugged.
The steering wheel drifted as Will let go and reached for the middle console. He quickly flicked the radio on, then grabbed the wheel before the car drifted off the road.
Static crackled from the speakers. The sound crashed against Alex, pinning her against her seat. It was beautiful, like the rolling waves on the beach. The sound ebbed and flowed, the steady pulse renewing her energy with every breath.
Will shivered, a smile spreading up his cheeks. “Seth told me about this. What Riles called the Holy Signal.”
It felt glorious. Even so, Alex wanted to turn it off. Whatever this sound meant, it was a byproduct of Owen. Alex wanted nothing to do with him or his parasites. She reached out, but Will stopped her.
“Hold on,” Will said. “Seth said he heard this sound, back at the barn. It allowed him to level up. To get a new wish.”
That was even more reason to turn it off. These wishes might sound like a blessing, but they were just a curse in disguise. Any new abilities they got would only make it harder to explain to the FBI.
Even so, Alex couldn’t help but wonder what she would wish for next. Her first ability was pretty useless, and it seemed like these wishes had clear limits. But there were so many things she didn’t understand. For example, every wish she’d seen so far had been an ability. Never a physical thing. If Alex wished for money or a mansion, would the parasite be able to make it?
Probably not, but it would be interesting to test the parasites' limits. Even if it wasted the wish.
No, Alex couldn't risk it. She needed to turn the radio off. She couldn't give the parasite what it wanted. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her finger still tapped against the pistol, and it followed the beat of the static.
"I think," Will said, "this is my new favorite song." He nodded his head to the pulsing rhythm. "Groovy."
The car slowed down as they approached a big suspension bridge, a huge bulwark of metal and concrete. The bridge spanned the Argent River, and it was far bigger than necessary. Perhaps, in the past, its four lanes would be full of traffic. But right now it was completely abandoned, not to mention old, with paint peeling off its metal beams and rust showing underneath.
“Hey,” Will said as he pressed on the brakes. “You said Owen’s lackeys have yellow eyes, right?”
“Yeah?”
“What do blue eyes mean?”
Will pointed to the sky. Hovering high over the suspension bridge was a dark figure. A woman in black tactical clothes. Her brown hair whipped behind her in the wind, and fog buffeted her with turbulent swirls. Alex shivered at the sight of her. Not because she was floating, which was creepy enough, but because Will was right. Her eyes blazed bright blue.