《Survive: Brightvale》


 Part I: Arson

    The golden light of the setting sun stretched across Brightvale''s Main Street, casting long shadows over the brick buildings and storefronts. Groups of civilians strolled by the shops, their movements careful, their conversations hushed. Some hurried, eyes downcast, eager to avoid drawing attention from the Quarantine Authority patrols.


    Soldiers in dark green uniforms stood at street corners, rifles slung lazily over their shoulders, watching with a disinterest that came from years of routine. Occasionally, a civilian truck or a military jeep rumbled down the pavement. A few children played near a broken fire hydrant, kicking around an old basketball, their laughter an eerie contrast to the quiet tension lingering in the air.


    And in the middle of it all, tucked away in the town''s famous park, beneath a flickering streetlamp, three teenagers sat on a wooden bench, talking as though the world hadn''t ended around them.


    Lucy Sinclair leaned back, arms crossed, her keen blue eyes scanning the street. Long blonde hair framed her face, sleek and meticulously styled. She was slim, effortlessly elegant, and dressed as though she had somewhere important to be.


    Beside her, Karen Baxter lounged with her legs kicked up on the bench, grinning like she had just heard the best joke in the world. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with mischief. Her clothes were nice, well-kept¡ªmiddle class, stylish but practical.


    Olliver Grayson, ever the nervous one, perched at the edge of his seat, fidgeting with the collar of his sweater vest. His short brown hair, brown eyes, and plain, unassuming department store clothes stood in stark contrast to his two friends.


    "I''m just saying," Karen announced, tossing her hands in the air. "If I were a secret agent working for the Resistance, I wouldn''t be some shadowy figure lurking in the dark. No, sir! I''d be charming, dashing¡ªthe kind of girl who could talk her way past any soldier and still have time to sip a milkshake before curfew."


    Ollie sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Golly, Karen, you do realize there is no Resistance, right?" His voice dropped as his gaze flicked to a pair of soldiers loitering near a lamppost. "If anyone heard you talking like that, we''d be in a heap of trouble."


    Karen''s grin didn''t waver. "Oh, come now, Ollie! You gotta have some sense of adventure! What if there really was a secret organization out there? Maybe one of us is already in it and just hasn''t told the others."


    Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, if you''re in the Resistance, Karen, they''re doomed. You''d spill the whole operation over a game of hopscotch."


    Karen gasped, pressing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "That, Miss Sinclair, is slander. I''d make an excellent secret agent! Why, I''d be Brightvale''s most dazzling mystery woman!"


    Lucy smirked. "What would your codename be? The Yapping Menace?"


    "The Magnificent Miss K!" Karen declared proudly. "Has a certain pizzazz, don''t you think?"


    Ollie exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Jeepers, you two are gonna get us arrested one of these days."


    The warm glow of the streetlights flickered on as dusk settled over Brightvale. The town never truly slept, but at this hour, it grew quieter. Shops wound down, civilians hurried home before curfew, and soldiers stood at their posts like statues.


    Then came the shouting.


    A commotion shattered the evening''s rhythm¡ªthe unmistakable bark of orders, the desperate wail of a woman, the harsh clatter of boots on pavement.


    Lucy turned her head toward the sound, Karen and Ollie following her gaze. Across the street, just past the corner of Main, the familiar neon glow of Ethan''s Electronics buzzed against the twilight sky. The bright orange letters gleamed: Ethan''s Electronics: Powering Your World!


    But the usual hum of business was absent. Two QA officers dragged Mr. Bennett from the shop, gripping his arms like iron vices. His glasses hung crooked on his face, his hair disheveled. He wasn''t fighting them. It didn''t matter. They handled him like a criminal anyway.


    "No! No, please! I have a family!" Bennett''s voice cracked with panic. "I''ve done nothing wrong!"


    His wife stood screaming in the doorway, fists clenched. "You can''t take him! He''s not sick!"


    She tried to push past an officer, but he shoved her back inside the shop. A second later, Bennett was forced into the back of a waiting military truck. The engine roared to life, drowning out his final protests as the steel doors slammed shut. His wife collapsed to her knees, her sobs barely audible over the idling vehicle. A few townsfolk gathered, whispering, holding her shoulders, but no one stepped forward.


    Karen was the first to break the silence. "Well. That was dreadful."


    Ollie''s hands gripped his knees so tightly his knuckles had gone white. "Golly, they just took him. Like, he was some sort of¡ª" He swallowed, glancing at Lucy. "They think he''s sick, don''t they?"


    Lucy didn''t answer right away. She kept her eyes on the empty street, watching dust swirl in the truck''s wake, the last evidence that Mr. Bennett had ever been there at all.


    "Or he did something else to make them mad," she finally murmured.


    Karen exhaled sharply. "Gee, you mean besides existing?"


    Lucy shot her a look, but Karen just shrugged, arms folded. "What? I''m just saying. The Quarantine Authority doesn''t need much of an excuse to snatch people off the street."


    "They wouldn''t take someone without a reason," Ollie insisted, but his voice betrayed his own doubt.


    Lucy tilted her head. "Wouldn''t they?"


    Ollie didn''t answer.


    Karen leaned forward, a playful glint in her green eyes. "Well, Lucy, this is exactly the kind of thing our brilliant, ever-intrepid detective should be investigating!" She waved her hands dramatically, her voice taking on the cadence of a radio drama announcer.


    "Tonight on The Sinclair Files¡ªa sinister arrest, a weeping wife, and a government conspiracy! Can Lucy Sinclair crack the case before the stroke of midnight?"


    Lucy let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "You read way too many pulp novels."


    Karen grinned. "You love it."


    Ollie sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can we please not make light of an actual man getting dragged away?"


    "Aw, Ollie, if we don''t laugh about it, we''ll cry about it." Karen nudged him playfully. "Besides, it''s not like Lucy actually plans to investigate, right?"


    Lucy stood up. "Come on," she said, already heading toward her car. "Let''s go home. It''s getting late."


    Karen blinked, then turned to Ollie with a smirk. "Oh-ho, I know that look. That''s the ''this-is-a-mystery-I-can''t-let-go'' look."


    "I don''t have a look," Lucy said flatly.


    Karen and Ollie exchanged a knowing glance before following her.


    Lucy''s car, an old two-door Studebaker, sat tucked beneath a streetlamp, its chrome glinting under the yellow glow. The car was slightly worn, yet it remained dependable as always. The trio slid into their seats, and as Lucy started the engine, Karen turned to Ollie.


    "You ever wonder where they take people?"


    Ollie hesitated. "... Not really."


    "Sure you do," Karen pressed, buckling her seatbelt. "They say it''s ''medical isolation,'' but has anyone ever come back? Ever?"


    Ollie swallowed. "Maybe they really are sick."


    "Or maybe," Karen said, stretching out in her seat, "they''re just vanishing people."


    Lucy didn''t say anything. She put the car into drive, her grip on the wheel tightening slightly as they pulled away from the park. She knew deep down that Karen was right. People who got taken never came back.


    And if Mr. Bennett wasn''t sick... then what was he guilty of?


    The Studebaker''s engine hummed steadily as Lucy guided it through Brightvale''s dimly lit roads. Despite everything, the town looked almost... normal.


    Karen sat up front, legs tucked comfortably beneath her, staring out at the town rolling by. Ollie sat in the back, fiddling with his sleeves, his brown eyes still clouded with the weight of what they''d just seen. For a while, no one said anything.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Then Karen broke the silence. "You miss your dad?"


    Lucy didn''t take her eyes off the road. "Yeah," she admitted. "It''s been hard the last eight months."


    "Golly," Karen sighed, shifting in her seat. "I mean, he was the guy around here. Nobody knew this town better than Detective Sinclair."


    Lucy gave a small, tired smile. "Yeah. That''s why they took him."


    Karen glanced at her. "Did he ever say why exactly?"


    "He was a little vague," Lucy said, turning the wheel to follow the road past an old tobacco farm. "But he told me they were taking him to some government bunker. Said they needed his skills. That it was ''to put an end to all this.''"


    Karen snorted. "Well, that''s reassuring."


    Lucy sighed. "I know, right?"


    For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the tires on the pavement. Karen leaned her head against the window, exhaling softly. "I miss my mom."


    Lucy''s hands tightened around the steering wheel. "I know," she said quietly.


    Karen didn''t cry¡ªshe never cried¡ªbut there was a softness in her voice that made Lucy''s heart ache.


    As they reached Karen''s street, Lucy slowed the car in front of a small, quaint house tucked between two larger homes. The porch light was on, casting a warm glow over the steps. Karen unbuckled her seatbelt and turned back toward Ollie.


    "Well, don''t get snatched by the feds, buddy."


    Ollie rolled his eyes. "You''re hilarious."


    Karen grinned before opening the door and stepping out. "See ya tomorrow, sleuths!"


    Lucy gave a small wave, waiting until Karen disappeared inside before driving off. For a moment, the car was quiet again. Then Ollie spoke.


    "So... what do you think about the whole Bennett situation?"


    Lucy sighed. "I don''t know. But it''s probably not good."


    Ollie frowned, leaning forward slightly. "You don''t know? But you''re¡ªyou know. You''re you."


    Lucy chuckled. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    "I just figured they would tell you things."


    Lucy shook her head. "They don''t let me near anything sensitive like that. I report directly to the sheriff''s department. That''s it."


    Ollie sat back, quiet for a moment. Then he mumbled, "Maybe people are sick."


    Lucy glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Ollie shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Maybe people are overreacting. Why would the Quarantine Authority just... take people for nothing?"


    Lucy didn''t answer. She reached for the radio dial, hoping to shake the heavy mood with some music. The old speakers crackled as she turned the knob, cycling through the few remaining radio stations still broadcasting in Brightvale.


    She never got the chance to settle on one. Because that was when the house exploded.


    A blinding orange glow filled the windshield, heat pressing against her face an instant before a deafening BOOM tore through the street. The Studebaker lurched as Lucy slammed the brakes, tires screeching against the asphalt. The shockwave rocked the car, glass shattering around them.


    Then¡ªbefore she could fully process it¡ªdebris rained down, pelting the hood like hail.


    Through the thick smoke, a house stood ahead, engulfed in firelight. Its roof collapsed inward, sending embers spiraling into the night sky.


    Ollie let out a strangled, "Jeepers!"


    Lucy''s pulse hammered in her ears. Then, she saw something move through the swirling smoke and flickering firelight.


    A figure darted between the fences behind the burning house. Someone was running.


    Her heart pounded harder. She caught a glimpse¡ªjust for a second. The glow of the inferno partially illuminated his face. Sharp angles. He had short, dark hair. A flicker of recognition tugged at her mind, but it slipped away just as fast.


    Who was that? Had they set the fire? Were they watching¡ªor escaping?


    She barely realized she was moving until she pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and turned toward Ollie.


    "We have to check it out."


    Ollie blinked. "Wait¡ªwhat? Lucy, no¡ª"


    But she was already pushing the door open, stepping out into the thick, smoke-choked air.


    "Lucy!" Ollie leaned forward, eyes wide. "You can''t just¡ª"


    He let out a groan, rubbing his face. "Gee whiz," he muttered before shoving open his door and chasing after her.


    The heat from the blaze was suffocating, waves of fire licking at what remained of the house. Flames roared high, casting flickering light over the darkened lawn.


    Lucy''s attention was fixed on the location where the figure had disappeared, barely registering the destruction.


    She took a half step forward, scanning the dark.


    Gone.


    Ollie finally caught up, breathless. "Jeepers¡ªLucy! What¡ªwhat happened?!"


    Lucy didn''t answer right away. She turned back to the inferno, the fire reflecting in her sharp, focused blue eyes. "I¡ª" She hesitated. Then she shook her head. "I don''t know."


    She turned toward him. "You need to step back, Ollie. I''m gonna look around."


    Ollie''s eyes went wide. "Look around?!" He motioned toward the fire. "Lucy, this place is gonna collapse in on itself! And the QA will be here any second!"


    "I know." She scanned the yard, already picking a starting point. "That''s why I need to move fast."


    Ollie threw up his hands. "You''re unbelievable! We should be leaving, not snooping! You don''t even know if whoever did this is still¡ª"


    "They won''t do anything, Ollie." Her voice was calm but firm.


    Ollie hesitated, glancing at the burning wreckage, then back at her. She stepped closer, voice dropping slightly.


    "If the QA gets here first, they''ll clean everything up, say something official-sounding, and then it''ll be over." She exhaled, scanning the street. "We''ll never know what actually happened."


    Ollie swallowed, uncertain. "You really think they wouldn''t investigate?"


    Lucy looked at him. Dead serious. "Ollie... have they ever?"


    The fire crackled louder, devouring what was left of the house.


    Finally, he sighed. "...Fine," he muttered. "But just¡ªjust be careful, okay?"


    Lucy gave him a small, appreciative smirk. "I''m always careful."


    Ollie rolled his eyes. "That''s the biggest lie I''ve ever heard."


    She didn''t respond. She was already searching for clues.


    The heat from the fire pressed against her back as she carefully stepped into the backyard. Smoke curled into the air, thick and suffocating, her eyes scanning for anything out of place.


    There had to be something¡ªanything¡ªhe left behind.


    She stepped over scattered debris, eyes flicking to a turned-over barbecue grill lying near the edge of the patio. The metal lid wasn''t burned, nor was there any soot or fire damage on the surface.


    "Must''ve tripped on it," she murmured to herself.


    Her gaze swept the area, moving past the charred wooden steps of the back porch. Near the edge of the fence, she spotted a plastic pink flamingo lawn ornament lying on its side. Unlike the rest of the backyard, it also remained unburned. She stepped toward it¡ªthen stopped.


    A small book rested on the grass.


    Lucy knelt, brushing ash off the soft leather cover. As soon as she flipped it open, her brows furrowed.


    French.


    She recognized the language, but not the words. The pages were lined with neat, handwritten entries, some underlined, others marked with symbols she didn''t understand. Her heartbeat accelerated.


    What was a French notebook doing here?


    Her fingers tightened around the edges, flipping through a few more pages. Some of the ink had smudged from the heat, but most of the writing remained intact. Scribbled in the margins were dates, some recent, others older. One phrase was underlined multiple times, standing out against the rest.


    She didn''t understand it. But someone would.


    Before she could dwell on it further, she heard it¡ªsirens.


    Lucy''s head snapped up as flashing red and blue lights poured down the street. The sharp wail of sirens grew louder, followed by the distinct sound of soldiers shouting orders.


    Then¡ªscreaming. The neighbors.


    Lucy tucked the notebook into her coat pocket and accelerated her pace. She didn''t run, but her pace was quick and precise, ducking through the tree line along the edge of the property. The scent of smoke clung to her clothes as she slipped into the shadows, keeping low until she reached the last of the trees.


    She spotted her car¡ªand Ollie. He was leaning on it, arms crossed, shifting from foot to foot, his expression tense. He looked up as she emerged from the trees. His shoulders sagged with relief.


    "Lucy¡ªwhere the heck did you go?"


    Lucy glanced over her shoulder, watching as QA trucks blocked off the street. Officers were already yelling at the surrounding neighbors, weapons drawn. She stepped into the driveway, keeping her voice even.


    "I didn''t find much," she lied.


    Ollie frowned. "What were you even looking for?"


    Lucy ignored the question. "We should go."


    He hesitated, glancing toward the scene unfolding down the street.


    The QA had people at gunpoint, barking orders as they lined up the neighbors for infection screenings. Their movements were sharp and methodical¡ªthis was routine for them.


    Ollie swallowed. "You think¡ªyou think anyone inside made it?"


    Lucy''s jaw tightened. "Not a chance."


    Ollie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is bad, isn''t it?"


    Lucy turned to him, expression unreadable. "It''s worse than bad."


    She pulled open the driver''s side door. "Come on, get in."


    Lucy put the car in reverse, glancing at the rearview mirror as the Studebaker rolled back toward the street. The blazing house still roared, smoke curling thick into the sky, painting the night in dark streaks.


    She had barely made it out of the driveway when¡ª


    A soldier stepped in front of the car, raising a hand. Lucy cursed under her breath and hit the brakes. The man was young, maybe mid-20s, dressed in QA fatigues with an M1 Garand slung across his back. His face was stoic and unreadable, but his sharp blue eyes flicked between her and Ollie like he was already sizing them up as a problem.


    Lucy rolled down the window. "Something wrong, Officer?"


    The soldier took a step forward, resting one hand on his belt. "Step out of the vehicle."


    Lucy tilted her head. "Is that necessary?"


    "Everyone gets screenings," he said flatly.


    Lucy let out a slow breath, then reached into her coat pocket¡ªnot for the notebook, but for something else.


    Her badge.


    She held it up, flipping it open with ease. The metal shield gleamed faintly in the firelight.


    "Relax," she said smoothly. "We''re not infected. Just doing your job for you."


    The soldier''s expression didn''t change. "Out of the car."


    Lucy leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping into something firm but casual.


    "Look, you know Detective Sinclair, right? Of course you do." She paused, watching his reaction.


    "Well, I''m his daughter, and it''s my job to investigate these things. We were passing by when we saw the explosion, so we stopped to look."


    She gestured back toward the scene. "That''s it. Now we''re leaving. Have fun with your fire."


    The soldier''s jaw tightened, his gaze lingering on her badge, then on her face. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then¡ªa sigh.


    "Fine," he muttered. "Just don''t get in our way."


    Lucy smirked. "Wouldn''t dream of it."


    Ollie exhaled softly from the passenger seat as the soldier stepped aside. As Lucy shifted the car into drive, Ollie muttered, "Nice."


    She only grinned, tapping the gas. But before she could fully pull away, the soldier suddenly placed his hand on the doorframe. Lucy froze, fingers tightening on the wheel. The soldier leaned in slightly, voice lower this time¡ªalmost amused.


    "Careful now, it''s getting late," he said, his tone taking on a menacing edge.


    "Wouldn''t want to get caught out past curfew."


    Lucy held his gaze. Then, coolly, she tilted her head and smiled.


    "Then I better get going."


    The soldier''s hand slid off the doorframe as the car rolled forward, leaving him standing there, watching.


    The drive back to Ollie''s house was quieter than before. There were no jokes or playful jabs, only the low hum of the radio and the occasional crackle of static. Lucy could feel Ollie watching her from the passenger seat. When they finally pulled up in front of his house, he let out a breath.


    "You know," he muttered, "one of these days, that attitude''s gonna get you arrested."


    Lucy smirked. "Well, I''m still here, aren''t I?"


    Ollie just shook his head, grabbing his bag from the floor.


    "Get some sleep, Grayson," Lucy said as he opened the door.


    "You too, Sinclair."


    She waited until he disappeared inside before shifting the car into drive and heading home. She didn''t rush.


    The streets were already thinning out, civilians making their way indoors before curfew locked them down for the night. A few QA patrol vehicles rumbled past her, but none of them bothered to stop her this time. Her fingers drummed on the wheel. The notebook sat heavy in her pocket, like a stone weighing her down.


    She was unsure of the contents. But one thing was clear:


    It wasn''t supposed to be hers. And that meant it was important.

 Part II: The Dog Tags

    The morning light spilled through the window, golden rays creeping across the floral wallpaper of Lucy Sinclair''s bedroom. She let out a groggy sigh, stretching her arms above her head before rolling onto her side.


    Her fingers instinctively reached under her pillow. The notebook was still there. She pulled it out, thumbing along the worn leather cover before flipping it open again. The pages were lined with neat, handwritten French, some sections underlined or marked with strange symbols and numbers.


    Lucy frowned. She had understood it vividly last night. That was, at least, what she had experienced in her dreams.


    "But then again..." she murmured, rubbing her forehead. "Karen was the culprit in my dream."


    She let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head before closing the book and setting it on her nightstand. It was just a dream¡ªher brain twisting last night''s events into something ridiculous. Still, her thoughts drifted back to the fire, to the man running into the night.


    Who was he? Did he start the fire? Or was he running from something worse?


    The thoughts buzzed in her head, but her stomach growled louder. Sighing, she slipped out of bed, reached for her robe, and headed for the bathroom.


    By the time Lucy padded downstairs, the smell of pancakes and muffins filled the air. The kitchen was warm and lively, the sound of plates clinking and conversation blending with the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. Her mother, Betty Sinclair, stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with expert ease. At the table sat her mother''s fianc¨¦. Evan Carter, a tall, broad-shouldered man, had calloused hands and a permanent layer of dust on his clothes¡ªa telltale sign of a man who worked with his hands for a living. The QA employed him as a construction worker.


    "Mornin'', kiddo," Evan greeted, sipping his coffee.


    "Morning, sweetheart!" Betty added with a cheerful smile.


    Lucy rubbed her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she pulled up a chair.


    "Good morning, good morning," she muttered before flashing a grin. "I am absolutely starving."


    Then she caught sight of the spread on the table.


    Pancakes. Muffins.


    They were a little blander than they used to be, but they were still her favorite. She happily grabbed a plate, already reaching for a muffin when Evan leaned back in his chair.


    "You hear about the fire?" he asked casually.


    Lucy paused for half a second before tearing a piece off her muffin.


    "Yeah," she said, popping it into her mouth. "I was there."


    Evan raised a brow. "Is that right?"


    Betty tsked, turning over another pancake. "Lucy, honey, were you in danger?"


    Lucy waved her hand dismissively. "No, no¡ªjust close enough to see the commotion."


    Evan hummed. "Did you find anything useful?"


    Lucy flashed a playful smirk. "Not yet. But hopefully something comes up."


    She sat up straighter, mock-dramatic. "But not to worry! The case is in excellent hands."


    Evan chuckled, shaking his head. "Shame a young girl has to bear such a responsibility. But if anyone can figure it out, it''s you."


    Lucy shot him a finger gun. "Darn tootin''."


    Evan snorted. Lucy tapped her fork against her plate.


    "Do you know anything about that house?" she asked.


    Evan glanced at her over his coffee. "It belonged to some QA Councilman. Geoffrey something-or-other."


    It piqued Lucy''s interest. "Councilman Geoffrey? What''s he in charge of?"


    Evan leaned back in his chair. "Food and rationing, I believe."


    Lucy''s fork froze midair, clearly intrigued.


    She set it down, tilting her head. "Is he straight?"


    Evan let out a dry laugh. "He''s a councilman in the Quarantine Authority." He shook his head. "He''s definitely not straight. But what would I know?"


    Lucy leaned forward. "So he might have enemies."


    Evan raised a brow. Lucy grinned.


    "Enemies who would want to, say, blow up his home, hoping he was inside?"


    Evan took another sip of his coffee. "Could be. Could be."


    There was a moment of silence. Then, Betty came bustling over with a fresh plate of pancakes.


    "Alright, alright, enough with the shop talk! Breakfast is served!"


    Lucy laughed, tucking the conversation into the back of her mind as she grabbed another pancake. There was a lot to chew on this morning.


    And not just the food.


    Lucy spent the next couple of hours in her room. She sat at her desk, flipping through the French notebook for what had to be the fiftieth time that morning. Despite the fire, the neatly written pages remained crisp, yet the words seemed like elegant nonsense to her. She traced her finger along an underlined section, tilting her head.


    Nothing.


    She sighed, leaning back in her chair and tapping the notebook with her pen.


    What did this mean? There had to be something. Some connection.


    Her mind yearned to begin assembling a puzzle, yet it lacked the necessary pieces.


    The fire, the man running, the French notebook, and Mr. Bennett''s arrest.


    Lucy frowned.


    Were they connected? Or am I reaching?


    She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. She needed something solid. Something real. And then¡ª


    A loud knock rattled the front door.


    Lucy jerked upright, heart skipping half a beat before she snapped the notebook shut. Paranoia momentarily flickered through her¡ªwas it the QA? She rushed downstairs, stepping lightly as she moved toward the door. She sighed with relief as she peered through the small peephole.


    Karen.


    Lucy unlocked the door and swung it open.


    "Morning, stranger!" Karen grinned.


    The two girls hugged briefly, then Karen stepped inside like she owned the place.


    "Ollie told me about last night." Karen''s eyes were wide with excitement. "Gosh, Lucy! A fire? A mysterious explosion? And I wasn''t there to see it?!"


    Lucy laughed, shaking her head as she closed the door.


    "Trust me, it was scary." She stretched slightly. "Plus, the QA showed up, so it wasn''t all that fun."


    Karen rolled her eyes dramatically. "Damn QA."


    Lucy chuckled. "My thoughts exactly."


    Karen clapped her hands together. "Well! Enough about that. Get your coat. We''re getting brunch."


    Lucy blinked. "Brunch?"


    "Yes, brunch! You know, that magical meal between breakfast and lunch?"


    Lucy crossed her arms. "I just had a big breakfast."


    Karen gasped in mock offense. "Must be lovely to be part of the elites. A big, hearty breakfast while the rest of us poor folk suffer."


    Lucy rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."


    Karen grinned, undeterred. "Fine, then. You don''t have to eat. Just come along and watch me eat."This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Lucy smirked. "What do you mean, ''come along''? I''ll be driving."


    Karen gasped again. "Why, yes! Because you''re my chauffeur!" Then, with a dramatic snap of her fingers, she gestured as if she were a wealthy lady commanding her butler. "Come now, Ms. Sinclair. I have places to be, you know!"


    Lucy shook her head, grabbing her coat. This girl was too much. But she wouldn''t have it any other way.


    The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm golden light over the bustling streets of Brightvale. The town square was alive with movement¡ªmothers carrying grocery bags, men in pressed suits heading to work, children darting between their parents'' legs, their laughter ringing through the air. QA soldiers stood at their usual posts, their watchful gazes scanning the sidewalks as the citizens carried on, pretending not to notice.


    Lucy drove east toward Pleasant Hill, her Studebaker rolling smoothly over the cobblestone streets. Their destination?


    Jukebox Caf¨¦.


    The diner was cozy, featuring a checkered floor, red leather booths, and a glowing neon sign that hummed softly. A jukebox sat in the corner, occasionally playing a soft jazz tune, though it was mostly drowned out by the chatter of the morning crowd.


    Lucy pulled into the lot and killed the engine. Karen clapped her hands together. "I can already taste those pancakes."


    Lucy shook her head, grinning as they stepped inside.


    A middle-aged waitress with a soft smile and a green uniform approached their booth. "What''ll you have to order, girls?" she asked, clicking her pen.


    Lucy flipped her menu shut. "Just a coffee and a yogurt, thanks."


    Karen leaned back with a dramatic sigh. "Tea, and I''ll take the whole classic American breakfast."


    The waitress chuckled. "Coming right up."


    As she walked away, Lucy rested her chin in her hand, eyes drifting toward the window.


    Everyone hurried along Brightvale''s streets, performing their daily routine as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Karen noticed Lucy''s distant expression and nudged her foot under the table.


    "Alright, what''s with the long face?" she asked.


    Lucy snapped back to reality and sighed. "I''m just thinking about the case. Trying to figure out how it all fits together."


    Karen perked up. "Ooooh, now we''re getting serious. What''s the latest development, detective?"


    Lucy glanced around, then leaned in slightly. "I found something at the fire last night."


    Karen''s eyes widened. "Well, why didn''t you say so? What is it?"


    Lucy pulled the notebook from her coat pocket and set it on the table. Karen picked it up, flipping through the pages.


    "Oh, wow. French. That''s, uh... that''s about all I got." She squinted at the text. "I can make out, like... three words."


    Lucy smirked. "Know anyone who can actually read it?"


    Karen tapped her chin. "Not personally. Not exactly. But I might know someone who can help."


    Lucy raised a brow. "Yeah? Who?"


    "Trevor Bailey."


    Lucy tilted her head. "Trevor Bailey? I remember him. Didn''t think he spoke French."


    Karen snorted. "That''s because you didn''t know him like I did."


    Lucy rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go."


    Karen grinned. "I used to study with him before everything went sideways. And by ''study,'' I mean I cheated off his homework."


    Lucy chuckled. "Of course you did."


    "But!" Karen gestured with one finger. "In my defense, we got to know each other pretty well, and his grandfather was from Canada. It''s like French there or something. Anyway, he even taught me a few words."


    Lucy smirked. "Let me guess¡ªcuss words?"


    Karen grinned proudly. "Mais oui, mon amie!"


    Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "Karen, you''re a genius. Thank you."


    Karen sighed dreamily. "It''s about time someone noticed."


    Their food arrived soon after, and the girls dug in, Lucy sipping her coffee as Karen all but inhaled her pancakes. By the time they paid the bill and stepped back outside, the afternoon sun had shifted slightly.


    As Lucy dug into her pocket for her keys, a voice nearby caught their attention.


    "You wouldn''t happen to be a soldier, would you?"


    Lucy and Karen paused, exchanging glances.


    A young man stood nearby, speaking with an older gentleman. He looked about seventeen, his short, neatly combed hair giving him a somewhat formal appearance. His expression was eager, but his posture was uncertain¡ªlike someone trying to act more confident than he felt.


    The older man shook his head. "No, son. Haven''t seen any vets since the Outbreak."


    The young man nodded. "I figured. Not many soldiers left wandering around among us, are there?"


    He paused, thoughtful. "They''ve all been drafted into the QA. Even the old ones."


    The girls caught the tail end of the conversation just as the young man thanked the older man for his time and turned to leave. Before Lucy could look away, he suddenly locked eyes with her. His brows shot up in surprise.


    "Wait... Sinclair? Lucy Sinclair?"


    Lucy blinked. "The one and only."


    The boy grinned, looking genuinely excited. "No kidding! I''m a big fan. I follow your cases whenever I hear about them."


    He hesitated, then his face turned more serious. "I''m sorry about your dad''s transfer."


    Lucy raised a brow, crossing her arms. "Can''t say I''ve ever been recognized on the street before. That''s a first."


    The boy beamed. "Oh? Well, boy, I''m honored!" He extended a hand. "Hans."


    Before Lucy could reply, Karen stepped forward, grinning. "I''m Karen!" She jabbed a thumb toward herself. "I''m actually the brains of the operation. Lucy here is kinda my sidekick."


    Lucy snorted. Hans chuckled. "Oh, is that so?"


    Karen nodded sagely. "Afraid so. But don''t worry¡ªshe''s a quick learner."


    Lucy shook her head, amused. This morning had taken an intriguing turn. Hans adjusted his collar, flashing Karen a quick grin.


    "I''m sure she is, Miss Karen! But, um... Lucy?" He shifted slightly, lowering his voice. "Did you hear about the fire?"


    Lucy folded her arms again, tilting her head slightly. "Yeah, I was there last night. Have you heard anything?"


    Hans shook his head. "Nothing more than anyone else."


    She let out a small sigh. "Damn. I was afraid so."


    Hans glanced over his shoulder, as if checking for any unwanted ears, then took a half step closer.


    "No, that''s a good thing," he whispered. "It''s also a good thing I bumped into you here today."


    Lucy and Karen exchanged a look. Hans reached into his coat pocket, his fingers fumbling around for something.


    "I found these tags. Soldier tags."


    He pulled out two grey metal dog tags attached to a string.


    Karen raised a brow. "And? Those are everywhere. All the QA guys have ''em."


    Hans nodded. "That''s what I thought too. I figured maybe one of ''em dropped these."


    Then he turned the tags over in his palm. "But these don''t look like any I''ve ever seen."


    He held them out. Lucy took them carefully, turning them over in her fingers. The metal felt cool and smooth to the touch, but there was an unsettling feeling.


    There were no QA insignias.


    No name. No rank. No official seal. There''s just a single number stamped right in the center.


    47.


    Karen leaned forward, impatient. "So? Don''t keep us all in suspense!"


    Lucy studied them closely, running her thumb over the engraving. "Curious," she murmured.


    She lifted her gaze. "These don''t belong to the QA."


    Karen raised an eyebrow. "Then who?"


    Lucy turned back to Hans. "Where did you find these?"


    Hans shifted, his excitement dimming slightly. "At the house," he said.


    "I was riding my bike around there this morning. Since there was no one around, I decided to stop and investigate. And well... I found those lying in the grass in the backyard."


    Lucy''s fingers tightened around the tags. Someone else had been there. Not just the QA. Someone who didn''t want to be found.


    She looked back at Hans. "Good work."


    Hans grinned proudly. "Oh boy, I think that means I''m officially on the case!"


    Karen snorted. "Yeah, sure, junior detective. Don''t let it go to your head."


    Lucy slipped the tags into her pocket. "No, really. This might be important."


    Her mind was already racing. The explosion. The notebook. And now, soldier tags that didn''t belong to any army she knew. Brightvale was hiding more secrets than she thought.


    Lucy brushed off her coat, flashing Hans a polite smile. "We need to get going. It was a pleasure meeting you today. Thanks again."


    Hans straightened up, giving a quick nod. "Oh, you too, Miss Sinclair! And Karen! Maybe we''ll run into each other again. We can discuss the case."


    Lucy chuckled lightly. "Maybe."


    As Hans headed toward the diner, Karen suddenly tapped Lucy on the shoulder. "Bye, Hans! Lucy will be thinking about you!"


    Lucy''s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. "Shut up, Karen!" she hissed, giving her a slight shove.


    Hans turned back with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the exchange. He gave an enthusiastic wave before stepping inside the diner, still smiling.


    Lucy groaned, pressing a hand to her face. "I can''t bring you anywhere."


    Karen smirked. "Oh, come on. He''s cute."


    Lucy shook her head. "Whatever."


    Karen just laughed.


    The road stretched long and golden under the late afternoon sun, fields of rolling green and amber swaying in the wind. The Studebaker cruised down the countryside, the windows rolled down, letting the crisp air whip through their hair. The radio crackled softly, then burst into life, playing an upbeat rock ''n'' roll tune. Karen tapped her fingers against her knee, bobbing her head to the beat. Lucy, ever the serious driver, kept her hands on the wheel, letting the music fill the space between them.


    They pulled into Karen''s driveway, a cozy little house tucked away from the main road. As they stepped inside, the house was quiet¡ªempty.


    "No one home?" Lucy asked.


    Karen shrugged, heading up the stairs. "Nope. Dad''s probably working late again."


    Lucy nodded silently, following her up.


    Karen''s room was cluttered but cozy¡ªfashion magazines, school notebooks, and a pile of records stacked near her dresser. A few old movie posters adorned the walls, while a pink blanket half-hung onto her unmade bed. Karen flopped onto the bed, grabbing a random magazine and flipping through it lazily.


    "Alright, Sinclair," she said, voice casual. "The dog tags. The notebook. What do you make of it?"


    Lucy paced slightly, twirling the dog tags in her fingers. "I''m not sure. But they must belong to the same person."


    Karen raised an eyebrow. "The guy who owned the house?"


    Lucy hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I don''t think so."


    Karen looked up, catching the hesitation in Lucy''s voice. "What? What is it?"


    Lucy sighed. "Last night... at the house." She hesitated again before finally admitting, "The notebook isn''t the only thing I saw."


    Karen snapped her magazine shut with a loud clap. "Sinclair!" she gasped. "Holding out on me again? You always do this! What did you see? Spill it!"


    Lucy exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "A man."


    Karen tilted her head. "A man? Who?"


    Lucy shook her head. "That''s the thing; I don''t know. I saw him in the backyard, running off. And now we find a notebook and dog tags in the same place? It can''t be a coincidence."


    Karen frowned, tapping her chin. Lucy added, "Besides... my stepdad knew the guy who owned that house. He never mentioned anything about him being French. Or Canadian."


    Karen''s eyes flicked around the room, then she asked, "Who owns the house?"


    Lucy sighed. "I''m not really sure. Some councilman, Evan said. Apparently, he was in charge of rationing the food or something."


    Karen sat up. "That can''t be easy. A job like that? He might have enemies."


    Lucy nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking."


    Karen''s eyes narrowed slightly. "But now he''s gone?"


    Lucy shrugged. "I don''t know. He may have been in the house; he may not have been."


    Karen sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah..."


    For a moment, they both sat in silence, the weight of the unknown hanging in the air. Then Karen suddenly clapped her hands together. "Well, look, it''s getting late. You should probably go. Don''t you have to pick up that basket for your mom?"


    Lucy stood up straight. "Right! I forgot!" She groaned. "You''re right; I should get going. Don''t wanna get myself arrested or worse now, do I?"


    Karen smirked. "No. You really don''t."


    She walked Lucy to the door and leaned against the frame. "Hear from you tomorrow?"


    Lucy smirked. "Definitely. We need to find a way to Northside to see your friend."


    Karen nodded. "Yeah. He could shine a light on this whole thing. If he still lives there."


    Karen opened the door, letting the cool evening air drift in. "Anyways, goodnight, Lucy. Be safe."


    Lucy stepped onto the porch, glancing back with a grin. "You too, Karen. Goodnight."


    Lucy made her way toward her car parked in the driveway. The sky had deepened to a soft purple, the last slivers of sunlight fading on the horizon. The air was quiet. Too quiet. Lucy hesitated before opening the car door, glancing around. For the first time since last night, she felt it.


    Something was wrong in Brightvale.


    She had always known things weren''t perfect. The QA controlled everything¡ªthe curfews, the rationing, the disappearances. But for the most part, people kept their heads down and moved along. This was different.


    The fire, the notebook, the dog tags.


    Beneath the surface, something darker was brewing.


    And Lucy planned on uncovering it.

 Part III: Sherriffs Department

    The Studebaker hummed softly as Lucy drove through Pleasant Valley, the road winding through the clean-cut neighborhoods and neatly trimmed lawns that lined the east side of Brightvale.


    It was a perfect morning¡ªif one ignored the soldiers patrolling the sidewalks.


    Karen had her arm resting on the open window, letting the breeze ruffle her hair as the radio played a soft jazz tune. She let out a satisfied sigh.


    "You know, sometimes I almost forget how bad things are around here."


    Lucy huffed a small laugh, keeping her eyes on the road. "That''s the trick, isn''t it? They keep things looking normal so you don''t notice the rot underneath. That''s what my dad says anyway."


    Karen made a clicking sound with her tongue. "And you just had to ruin the moment, didn''t ya?"


    Lucy grinned. "Gotta keep you sharp, Baxtor. Can''t have you getting soft on me."


    Karen was on the verge of retaliating when she noticed something in the distance.


    A crowd had gathered outside a shop, their voices hushed yet filled with concern. While trucks parked out front were moving crates in, military officers stood at attention, directing people away.


    Karen leaned forward. "Huh. That''s weird."


    Lucy slowed the car slightly, peering at the scene.


    The store was The Protective Measure¡ªone of the best places in town to find televisions, recording equipment, cameras, and anything high-tech or home security-related.


    "I wonder what''s going on," Karen mused.


    Lucy stopped the car near the curb, and a familiar figure caught their attention as she did. Hans was standing near the edge of the commotion, watching the soldiers with a mix of curiosity and excitement.


    Noticing them, he waved.


    Karen grinned. "Hans!"


    Hans walked over eagerly as Lucy put the car in park.


    "Hey, you two! Long time no see!" he greeted.


    Lucy barely glanced at him, her eyes fixed on the soldiers. They were unloading heavy wooden crates, each stamped with an official-looking insignia.


    Something about it felt... off.


    "What are they doing?" she finally asked.


    Hans shrugged. "Oh. Communists."


    Karen blinked. "Wait, what?"


    Hans scratched his head. "Not really sure what it means, but they said the shop owners were ''communist traitors.''"


    Lucy and Karen exchanged a look.


    Karen frowned. "Communists are, well... actually, I''m not sure either."


    Lucy crossed her arms. "They said they were the enemy when I was younger."


    Hans nodded. "Yup." Then he added, "I guess they were spies."


    Karen snorted. "Spies that sell cameras? How predictable."


    Hans chuckled. "It''s the perfect cover, don''tcha think?"


    Lucy wasn''t laughing. Something wasn''t right here.


    The QA was already oppressive, but accusing shopkeepers of being communists was a new twist. That didn''t feel like just paranoia¡ªit felt like an excuse.


    She wasn''t sure why yet, but she was determined to find out. For now, though¡ªthey had other plans.


    Karen, eager to move on, clapped a hand on Hans'' shoulder. "Well, we''re headed to get some grub. Why don''t you accompany us, Hans?"


    Hans'' eyes practically lit up. "Boy, really? I get to work on a case with Lucy Sinclair herself? My brother is going to be so jealous!"


    Karen tilted her head. "Your brother?"


    Hans groaned. "Yeah. He''s really annoying."


    Lucy chuckled. "Come on, we''re starving."


    Hans grinned. "Lead the way, detective."


    The small diner was nothing special¡ªworn-down booths, a scratched-up counter, and a faint smell of coffee and grease lingering in the air. Lucy, Karen, and Hans stepped inside, the door''s rusty bell jingling above them.


    A waitress¡ªmiddle-aged, sharp-eyed, and clearly unimpressed¡ªglanced up from behind the counter.


    "How many people?" she asked, voice flat.


    "Just us three," Lucy replied.


    The waitress scrutinized them carefully, as if determining if they were worth the trouble.


    After a moment, she sighed. "Follow me."


    She led them to a corner booth tucked near a fogged-up window. The vinyl seats creaked as they slid in, and the table''s sticky surface reflected the dim overhead lights.


    The waitress pulled a small notepad from her apron.


    "What''ll it be?" she asked.


    "All we got is eggs and pancakes. One egg, one pancake per serving. That''s it."


    The trio glanced at each other in hesitation.


    Lucy pursed her lips, then nodded. "We''ll all have two eggs and two pancakes, then."


    The waitress let out a loud, dry laugh. "Ha! You must think that I was born yesterday, child." She leaned against the booth, raising an eyebrow. "Let''s see some money first."


    Lucy, already rummaging through her bag, asked, "How much?"


    The waitress smacked her gum. "Six dollars."


    Karen nearly choked. "Good grief!"


    "It''s okay," Lucy said softly, already handing over the cash.


    She added, "Times are tough these days."


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The waitress took the bills, giving Lucy another hard look¡ªalmost as if she felt mocked. She scoffed and walked away.


    Karen, watching her go, frowned. "What''s her problem?"


    Lucy shrugged. "I''m not quite sure."


    Hans, arms crossed, muttered, "I know it''s called ''Pleasant Valley'' but people aren''t actually pleasant around these parts. Mostly because everything''s gotten so expensive since the QA got rid of all the coins."


    Karen rolled her eyes and said mockingly, "I''m surprised they haven''t erected someone''s statue out of them!"


    Lucy gave a half-smile, then sighed. "I remember when we were all kind of the same," she said. "Now everyone''s always jealous of each other."


    Karen scoffed. "I''d be jealous too if all I ate were rations."


    Lucy arched a brow. "Karen, you and your dad mostly eat rations."


    Karen snorted, bursting into laughter. "Well, it''s a good thing I''m best friends with such an elite gal."


    Lucy chuckled. "Right. Lucky you."


    As the conversation drifted, Lucy''s eyes wandered around the diner. She noticed something strange.


    Most of the people here looked poor¡ªthin, exhausted, wrapped in second-hand clothes. But scattered among them, others didn''t fit in. They included well-dressed men in pressed suits, women with perfectly curled hair, and expensive jewelry.


    Lucy leaned toward Hans. "Hey, Hans, you''re from here, right?"


    He nodded. "Yeah, born and raised. Why?"


    She hesitated, glancing back at the well-dressed crowd. "I don''t mean to offend, but... why are there so many rich-looking people in a place like this?"


    Hans followed her gaze, then shrugged. "Oh. Lots of people used to have lots of money. Not so much anymore."


    Karen smirked. "So, they were rich and useless. Now they''re poor and useless. Oh, the irony."


    Lucy frowned. "That''s not kind, Karen."


    Karen shrugged, flipping through a sugar packet on the table. "What? They didn''t really provide anything before. Now that usefulness is key, they''re here." She gestured toward the room. "Take you and your family, for example. Yeah, you guys were well off before, but because your dad''s job was actually valuable, you get to live like kings."


    Lucy sat back, mulling that over. "I guess..."


    Hans, arms crossed, nodded. "She''s not wrong."


    Lucy wasn''t sure how she felt about that. She didn''t consider herself "privileged"¡ªbut... wasn''t she?


    Her dad''s job kept them safe. Her mom''s fianc¨¦ had a guaranteed government position. She and her mother still lived in a comfortable house, had decent food on the table, and were never truly scared for their survival.


    Wasn''t that exactly what the others in this diner didn''t have anymore?


    The three of them ate in peace, letting the conversation drift into lighter topics¡ªLucy half-listened while mulling over the case, and Hans, as usual, was just happy to be included. By the time their plates were empty, the tension from earlier had faded.


    Karen leaned back, sighing. "Well, that was seriously pretty good."


    Hans nodded. "Yeah, for what little we get nowadays."


    Karen smirked. "For pancakes and eggs, anyway."


    Lucy wiped her hands with a napkin, then tapped her fingers against the table. "We have to get to Northside."


    Hans nearly choked on his last sip of coffee. "Northside? How? That''s impossible."


    Karen raised an eyebrow. "Impossible?"


    Hans leaned in, lowering his voice slightly. "Yeah. They say there''s monsters down that way."


    Karen let out a roar of laughter. "Monsters? What are you, twelve?"


    Hans huffed. "Seventeen, actually!"


    Karen grinned. "Right. My mistake."


    Hans crossed his arms. "But I''m serious! That''s what people say. No one goes out there except the QA."


    Lucy nodded. "Yeah. My dad had to go out there once, and he needed a special pass from the sheriff''s department."


    "You mean the QA''s department." Karen scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Since they threw Sheriff Austin and those two other bozos in a shed."


    Lucy sighed. "Yeah... basically."


    Northside was heavily restricted and cut off from the rest of Brightvale. It wasn''t just about getting in¡ªit was about what was out there.


    Lucy pulled her Studebaker into the lot, parking just outside the Sheriff''s Department. She stepped out, immediately glancing toward the rusted-down shed beside the main building. It was barely a structure anymore¡ªjust a haphazard lean-to of salvaged scrap, where Sheriff Austin and his two deputies, Michael and Ben, had been relegated.


    Today, however, it stood empty.


    There was no sign of them.


    Lucy frowned. If they weren''t there, it meant they were either avoiding trouble... or already in it. She shook the thought away, straightened her coat, and walked toward the main entrance. Just as she stepped through the door¡ª


    A soldier stepped in front of her. "State your business."


    Lucy barely hesitated. "I need to get a travel pass."


    The soldier raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"


    Lucy sighed and pulled out her badge, holding it up for him to see.


    "Lucy Sinclair."


    The soldier took it from her and inspected it carefully. He then glanced back at her with a dry expression.


    "You''re not a man."


    Lucy let out a small, exasperated chuckle.


    "It''s my dad''s. He was the detective around here. Look, just show it to someone in charge, and I''m sure it''ll be fine."


    The soldier looked her up and down again, then at the badge.


    Finally, he muttered, "Wait here."


    He strode toward the main desk, where a woman in uniform sat, looking busy and unimpressed. The soldier leaned down, showing her the badge. The woman didn''t even look up¡ªshe sighed and waved Lucy over. As the soldier returned, he thrust her badge back at her without a word. Lucy caught it, sliding it back into her coat as she approached the desk. The woman, Holly, was already giving her a look of pure exhaustion.


    "Miss Sinclair. Are you serious?"


    Lucy tilted her head. "What?"


    Holly scoffed.


    "Didn''t I tell you not to come back here? Do you have another ''case'' you''re about to ask me to waste our time on?"


    Lucy smirked. "No, Holly. I would never."


    Then, after a pause, she grinned wider.


    "But now that you mention it¡ªI do need a pass to reach Northside."


    Holly''s expression darkened instantly.


    "Don''t make me get my man over there to escort you out of the building," she whined, looking at a guard.


    "Don''t waste my time, Lucy. You know I''m not going to grant you that."


    Lucy''s smile faded slightly. "I''m not wasting your time."


    Holly stared at her for a long moment, then leaned forward.


    "You''re going to cross No Man''s Land?" She asked slowly. "You?"


    Lucy blinked. "No Man''s Land?"


    Holly smirked.


    "That''s what we call it. The region of Virginia between here and Northside. It''s highly infected and it''s the only way through."


    Lucy felt a small chill crawl up her spine. "Huh."


    Holly leaned back in her chair.


    "Besides¡ªwho knows who''s hiding out there? They don''t bother us, but a pretty girl like you wandering around?"


    She let the sentence linger. Lucy swallowed but didn''t break eye contact. Holly studied her for a moment, then sighed.


    "Look, kid. You''re in way over your head. There''s a reason we have machine guns."


    Lucy didn''t know what to think. Knowing that people were becoming desperate was one thing, but Holly''s implication was quite another.


    People could be violent, sure¡ªbut they weren''t savages.


    Right?


    She squared her shoulders. "Holly, it''s important, okay? I''m up for it."


    Holly tapped a pen against the desk, watching Lucy carefully.


    Then, slowly, she said¡ª"Tell ya what."


    She reached for a notepad and pencil, then looked back up at her.


    "My men have seen you with that little German boy. Tell me about him."


    Lucy furrowed her brow. "What? Hans?"


    Holly nodded. "Yeah. The Nazi family."


    Lucy froze.


    Holly''s voice had been flat and cold, but the accusation was sharp enough to cut. "They''re up to something," she added, waiting for Lucy to confirm it.


    Lucy opened her mouth but said nothing. Her mind was stumbling over itself, trying to piece together what Holly was even suggesting.


    Hans? A Nazi?


    She thought back to him.


    He had an easygoing demeanor.


    His eagerness to be involved in everything she did was evident.


    He showed his obvious admiration for her.


    He didn''t seem like a spy.


    And besides¡ªweren''t we past the war?


    Lucy shook her head slightly.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about, Holly. He seems like a charming boy."


    Holly laughed. Her laughter was not one of amusement, but rather one of mockery. Then, leaning forward, she said with a smirk¡ª"Then I guess you''re not getting to Northside."


    And with that, she pulled her sidearm from its holster, setting it down on the desk between them. Lucy''s breath hitched. The click of the metal against the wood sounded deafeningly loud in the silent building.


    Holly tilted her head. "Or perhaps you''re a sympathizer."


    Lucy''s blood ran cold. For a long, painful moment, she couldn''t move. She just stared at the gun, unable to tear her eyes away. She''d seen a gun before, but not like this. Not being used as a threat against her. Finally, her voice came out quietly.


    "What if I told you I have possible evidence of a Resistance?"


    Holly barely blinked. "Yeah, I doubt that."


    Lucy swallowed, then reached into her pocket. She pulled out the dog tags and tossed them across the desk. They clinked against the wood before landing in Holly''s lap. She picked them up slowly, inspecting them.


    Lucy crossed her arms. "They don''t look like yours now, do they?"


    Holly''s expression hardened. "Where''d you get this?"


    Lucy shrugged. "Over by Councilman Geoffrey''s place."


    Holly''s eyes flicked up. "That''s a QA zone now."


    Lucy nodded.


    "I just so happened to be close by when it happened. Don''t worry, I didn''t break any laws. I just did my job."


    Holly laughed dryly. "Your job? Sure thing, kiddo."


    Then she leaned forward again, spinning the dog tags between her fingers.


    "Anything else you''d like to share?" she asked mockingly.


    "You know, with the Law around here?"


    Lucy kept her face blank. "Nope. That''s it. Just the tags."


    Holly held her gaze for a moment longer. Then she sighed, shaking her head. She grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbled something down, and pushed it toward Lucy.


    "You''ll get your passage, Sinclair. However, be warned¡ª"


    She locked eyes with her.


    "No one''s coming to look for you in No Man''s Land."

 Part IV: No Mans Land

    The day was warm, and the sun was bright, almost making Brightvale seem normal.


    Lucy steered her car down the familiar streets, the engine humming beneath her hands. She pulled up in front of Karen''s house and barely had time to kill the ignition before Karen came bounding down the steps, her bag slung over one shoulder.


    She yanked the passenger door open, grinning. "Ready to cross into the great unknown, Miss Sinclair?"


    Lucy huffed a laugh. "Get in."


    Karen slammed the door shut behind her. "Hans is coming, right?"


    "He better be."


    As Lucy pulled into his driveway, Hans came jogging up from the side of the house, looking slightly out of breath. He slid into the backseat.


    "Didn''t wanna keep you waiting," he said.


    Karen snickered, nudging Lucy''s arm. "Look at that! A gentleman!"


    Lucy rolled her eyes, shifting into gear. "The road trip of a lifetime!"


    The closer they got to the checkpoint, the heavier the air felt.


    Brightvale''s transition exit was nothing more than a military-grade gate, lined with sandbags, barbed wire, and men with rifles. The closer they got, the more Lucy noticed¡ªthe tight formation of guards, the reinforced steel beneath the checkpoint booths, and the way even the civilians passing through moved like ghosts, keeping their heads down.


    Lucy pulled up to the barricade, rolling down her window. A soldier in a crisp uniform stepped forward. He looked them over with a practiced, disinterested gaze.


    "Papers?"


    Lucy handed him the note from Holly.


    He unfolded it, his eyes flicking over the scrawled handwriting. He didn''t speak a word, he pivoted and confidently walked towards a nearby guard post.


    Karen leaned in, lowering her voice. "Charming fellow!"


    Hans swallowed. "You think they''re actually gonna let us through?"


    Lucy kept her eyes on the guard post. "I hope so."


    Minutes passed.


    Then¡ªthe door to the post swung open, and the soldier returned, a document in hand. He approached the car, passing it through the window.


    Lucy took it, scanning the page.


    PARDON GRANTED: LUCY SINCLAIR AND GUESTS.


    There was a QA stamp at the bottom, bold and official.


    The soldier tapped the edge of the paper. "This is your passage. Don''t lose it."


    Lucy glanced up. "And if I do?"


    He arched a brow. "Then you''re out of luck, princess."


    Hans frowned. "Wait, so what, they won''t let us back in?"


    "Not without clearance from Northside''s officers." The soldier shrugged. "Your problem, not mine."


    Lucy exhaled, tucking the paper into her jacket. "Got it."


    The soldier gave a sharp nod, then gestured toward the gate.


    "Alright. Open it up."


    A loud mechanical whine filled the air as the heavy gates began to slide apart. Beyond the threshold lay a larger checkpoint leading to No Man''s Land, where the world stretched wide and empty.


    Lucy gripped the wheel, heart pounding.


    "Here we go."


    She drove forward, past the gates as they slammed shut behind them.


    The road beyond the city was cracked and uneven, with thin, black veins creeping through the fractures in the pavement. It felt wrong. It felt as if a force had been relentlessly attacking it. The farther they went, the more the road seemed to rot.


    Hans shifted uneasily in his seat. "Do you really think they won''t let us back in? I mean, we''re kids."


    Lucy kept her hands firm on the wheel. "I''m pretty sure they don''t care."


    Karen scoffed. "Yeah, they''ll probably just let us die out here. No biggie!"


    She casually leaned back, smirking. "Good thing Lucy handed me the paper!"


    Lucy''s brows furrowed. "Karen, what are you¡ª"


    Karen started patting her pockets. "Wait... wait, where did I¡ª? Oh, no¡ªoh, geez¡ª"


    Hans sat straight and upright. "YOU LOST IT?!"


    Karen gasped, eyes wide. "I don''t¡ªI swear I just had it¡ª"


    Hans looked ready to jump out of the moving car. "OH MY GOD, WE''RE DEAD¡ª"


    Karen erupted into laughter. "Oh relax, you goof; I don''t have it!"


    Hans froze. "...What."


    Karen was beaming with joy. "Lucy has it. Duh."


    Hans slumped back, hands gripping his face. "That''s not funny..."


    Lucy shook her head, smirking. "Serves you right for doubting me."


    The laughter faded quickly as they pressed deeper into No Man''s Land. The trees looked bizarre¡ªtwisted and gnarled, their bark peeling away in long, dry strips. Dead leaves, turned an unnatural shade of black and brittle as if drained of life, littered the ground. The deeper they went, the more unnatural it felt¡ªlike something was watching from just beyond the trees.


    Karen''s smirk faltered. "Okay... This place officially sucks."


    Hans gulped. "Yeah, I fear that this was a mistake."


    Lucy didn''t say anything. But she agreed.


    They drove into the outskirts of an old, abandoned town, and the atmosphere shifted.


    Dry, black tendrils covered everything¡ªcars, street posts, buildings. The town was a skeleton, wrapped in something alien. The air felt stranger here, dense with an unsettling stillness.


    Lucy''s eyes flicked across the road. "What is all that stuff?"


    Karen leaned forward, squinting. "No idea."


    Hans swallowed. "Could it be what''s causing the plague? It looks gross."


    Karen tilted her head. "Like something out of an old sci-fi serial."


    Lucy shook her head. "They never told us anything like this..."


    Karen frowned. "My dad said it''s like a really bad flu, but this is nuts!"


    Lucy gripped the wheel tighter. "No wonder no one''s allowed to leave. How do they even fix something like this?"


    Hans'' voice was quieter now. "I don''t like this, guys."


    Lucy exhaled. "Me neither. This looks so much worse than I could have ever thought."


    "Yeah..." Hans muttered.


    Karen, ever the optimist, grinned. "Well, at least we''re in your gorgeous crapmobile! Imagine if we had to walk through all that gunk?"


    Lucy grimaced. "I don''t even want to think about that."


    Hans muttered, "Yeah, Karen. You always say the worst things."


    Karen shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. "It''s fine! We''re safe in here. Come on, Luce. Go faster!"


    Lucy rolled her eyes but obliged, pressing her foot down. The car lurched forward, engine rumbling as it tore down the road, kicking up dust behind them.


    For a few miles, they could almost pretend they weren''t out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by things they didn''t understand.


    But then¡ª


    The engine let out a pitiful wheeze.


    Lucy''s hands tightened on the wheel as the car shuddered, coughed, and sputtered its last breath. The fuel gauge, which had been mocking them for miles, finally hit empty for good.


    Silence.


    Karen, still staring ahead, slowly leaned back against her seat.


    "Well, isn''t this just peachy?"


    Hans, already sweating, muttered, "We''re gonna have to walk, aren''t we?"


    Lucy sighed, pulling the keys from the ignition. "Seems that way."


    Stepping out, she took in their surroundings¡ªa desolate stretch of road, abandoned cars scattered like tombstones, their rusted frames half-swallowed by creeping black tendrils. No buildings. No signs of life. There was only the eerie silence of No Man''s Land.


    They started to stroll. The sun hung high, creating sharp shadows against the relics of former cars. Every movement stirred dust that settled far too silently; the sensation of being watched never faded.


    Hans wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What do you expect we''ll find in Northside?"


    Karen shrugged. "No idea. Boys from our old school got transferred there, though. There''s some kinda all-boys academy."


    Lucy nodded. "Yeah. That was two years ago, though."


    Karen exhaled. "True."


    Lucy adjusted the straps of her bag. "I''m sure it''s fine. If the QA is good at one thing, it''s keeping structure and order."


    Hans scoffed. "For the most part."


    Lucy repeated, "For the most part."


    Karen smirked. "Maybe it''s full of zombies."


    Hans stiffened. "NOT FUNNY!"


    Karen burst out laughing.


    Lucy smirked. "You''re joshing, but it''s obviously worse out here than we''ve been told, so who can say for sure? My dad always told me not to trust the QA, but my mom would say he was just paranoid."


    Karen stretched her arms behind her head. "Sinclair, if there are actually zombies there, I''m leaving both of you behind."


    Lucy chuckled. "Duly noted."


    Hans shot a glance over his shoulder. "You guys need to cut it out. I heard there were monsters out here, so don''t kid!"


    Karen snorted. "There''s no monsters, you knucklehead!"


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Hans muttered under his breath, "Says you."


    Ahead of them, the road stretched long, thin, dark tendrils creeping along its cracks. The more they approached Northside, the more the countryside deteriorated.


    As time went on, their playful rapport waned. Hours passed under the unrelenting sun, their steady pace turning into a trudge. Eventually, the road resulted in a bottleneck of abandoned vehicles snarled together, frozen in time.


    Ahead stood an old military checkpoint, its guard posts now empty, sandbags half-buried in creeping black veins. A billboard loomed nearby, its peeling paint once advertising a war bonds campaign, urging citizens to "Do Their Duty for America!" The once-bold letters were now faded, overtaken by crude graffiti scrawled across it in red: "LIES."


    Karen slowed her steps, adjusting her bag. "Well, that''s ominous."


    Lucy surveyed the scene, stepping carefully around the scattered debris¡ªhelmets, shell casings, and the remnants of a sandbagged barricade that had long since fallen apart. There were no bodies. It appeared like the soldiers had left mid-mission, abruptly abandoning the location.


    As they moved past a rusted old bus wedged between two wrecked cars, a sudden voice broke the silence.


    "Well, well! Need a ride?"


    Hans let out a yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin.


    Karen froze mid-step. "...Did that bus just talk to us?


    Lucy snapped her head toward the sound.


    A man in a full bus driver''s uniform sat in the driver''s seat, looking as if he belonged there. A navy blue jacket, slightly worn at the edges, fit snugly over a crisp white shirt and neatly knotted black tie. His matching trousers were just as sharp, though his shoes had seen better days. Perched atop his head sat a peaked driver''s cap, its visor gleaming beneath a layer of dust.


    He clicked a rusted ticket stamper between his fingers. Click. Click. Click.


    And he was grinning.


    Click. Click. Click.


    He was punching invisible tickets, humming a tune only he could hear.


    Hans visibly shrank behind Lucy. "Oh boy..."


    Lucy, to her credit, didn''t flinch. She merely folded her arms and stared.


    The man leaned casually against the wheel, tapping a finger against the dashboard. "One-way trip to Northside! There will be no stops, no refunds, and only mild existential dread along the way! What do you say?"


    Karen blinked. "There are so many things wrong with this situation; I don''t even know where to start."


    Lucy sighed. "Who are you?"


    The man gasped, hand over his chest. "Who am I? Who am I? What a question! What a mystery!" He leaned forward, conspiratorial. "What if I don''t even know?"


    Lucy''s patience was already waning. "What do you want?"


    "Oh-ho! You see, that''s the right question!" He grinned wider, spinning the hole puncher between his fingers. "See, I like games. And since you''re heading to Northside, I assume you like danger, so let''s play a little something I call¡ª" He raised his hands dramatically.


    "Answer Correctly, or Be Very, Very Wrong!"


    Karen groaned. "Oh, for crying out loud."


    "Now, now, sweetheart, you want to get where you''re going, don''tcha?" The man grinned, eyes gleaming. "You play; you get answers. You don''t? Well... you might find yourselves a little lost on the way."


    Lucy sighed. "How do you know we''re going to Northside?"


    The man gasped theatrically. "Ah! This is an excellent inquiry! You see, I read the stars, I divine the winds, I consulted the pigeons! The Great Ones, of course; not the young fools who follow breadcrumbs to their doom! They whispered it in my ear just this morning¡ª"


    He suddenly stopped, tilting his head. Then, flatly: "There''s only two places to go from here, sweetheart. Brightvale and Northside. And you''re walking, so unless you''re crazier than I am, you''re going to Northside."


    He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the steering wheel. "Now, why don''t you fine kids take a load off? No sense in walking yourselves to death. Have a seat, catch your breath... play a little game."


    Hans stiffened. "I don''t think that''s a good idea."


    Karen plopped herself onto an old car. "Hans, we''ve been walking for hours. The bus doesn''t even have wheels, so what''s he gonna do? Kidnap us?"


    The man''s grin widened. "Ah, but I''m being rude! Let''s get introductions out of the way, shall we? I''m Lyle. Just Lyle. And you, fine folks?"


    Lucy eyed him cautiously before answering. "Lucy Sinclair."


    Karen smirked. "Karen Baxtor."


    Hans simply muttered, "Hans," under his breath, still looking wary.


    Lyle''s grin didn''t falter. "Wonderful! The scene features a Sinclair, a Baxtor, and a Hans! Sounds like the start of a joke. Or a tragedy!"


    Lucy exchanged a look with Karen. Karen exchanged a look with Hans. Hans exchanged a look with his own impending doom.


    Lucy sighed. "Fine. We''ll play."


    Lyle clapped his hands together. "Oh, joy! First question!"


    He leaned forward, eyes glittering.


    "Why did the Quarantine Authority melt down all the small change?"


    Karen smirked, crossing her arms. "Because they''re good-for-nothings who find it funny to watch us all suffer?"


    Lyle hissed through his teeth. "Oh-ho-ho! So close! So very, very close! But wrong-o!"


    Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Then why?"


    Lyle leaned back, smiling lazily. "They need to produce more bullets, my dear! Bullets kill¡ªand they do a lotta killing! By the way, ever seen a hundred-dollar bill melt into black tendrils? No? Neither have I! But I hear the Governor did!"


    Karen just stared. "...What?"


    Hans looked horrified.


    Lucy massaged her temples. "Next question."


    Lyle grinned wide, rocking back in his seat.


    "Alrighty, round two! Let''s test your geography!" He tapped his temple like he was about to drop some profound wisdom.


    "What''s the capital of the United States of America?"


    Karen perked up, confidently folding her arms. "Washington, D.C."


    Lyle hissed through his teeth and waved a finger. "Oooh, tough break! Sorry, sweetheart, but wrong!"


    Karen frowned. "What do you mean, wrong? That''s literally the answer."


    Lyle clapped his hands once, then flung them wide. "Oh-ho, no-no-no, my dear! You''re thinking of yesterday''s world! That place?" He snorted. "Gone. Vanished. Reduced to nothing but rubble and specters."


    His grin stretched wider, eyes glinting.


    "The real answer is nowhere¡ªhow can there be a capital if everything''s horribly, tragically dead!"


    He threw his head back and laughed. He continued to laugh.


    Hans visibly paled. "I don''t like this game anymore."


    Karen just stared. "That''s not even¡ªThat''s¡ª" She gestured wildly. "That''s not how questions work!"


    Lucy rubbed her temples again. "Next question."


    "Alright, alright, now we''re getting to the juicy bits!" Lyle leaned forward, tapping his fingers together.


    "Why did the little ol'' Quarantine Authority escort some big-shot councilmen to Northside about, oh, a month or so back?"


    Karen''s brows shot up. "Wait, you mean¡ª"


    Lucy was quick to cut in, her voice sharp. "Because they''re protecting him!"


    Silence.


    Lyle''s grin froze. His eyes glittered with amusement, but there was something else there now¡ªa flicker of genuine surprise.


    "Well, well, well," he purred, leaning back in his seat. "Look at you! Sharp as a switchblade piercing a man''s throat."


    Karen and Hans exchanged a glance. Even Karen, usually quick with a joke, said nothing.


    Lyle tilted his head while watching and reading them. Then, his grin returned, all teeth and delight.


    "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" He gave a theatrical clap. "That''s right! The QA wasn''t moving him, oh no, no, no. They were guarding him. Like a big ol'' snarling dog standing over a bone."


    Hans shifted uncomfortably. "But... protecting him from what?"


    Lyle shrugged dramatically. "Ohhh, that''s the million-dollar question, ain''t it? Maybe a little ol'' Resistance? Maybe some enemies of the state? Maybe something a tad more personal?"


    His eyes twinkled, but the way he said it made it feel like he knew something they didn''t.


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans glanced at each other again. The same unsettling feeling scuttled down their spines.


    Lucy kept her face neutral, but inside, her thoughts were racing.


    Who exactly was this Councilman? What was so important about him?


    And, more importantly¡ªwho was he afraid of?


    Lyle tapped the ticket stamper against his knee. Click. Click. Click.


    "Well then, let''s keep the fun rolling! Next question!"


    Lyle rocked forward, elbows resting on his knees. His smile stretched, sharp and eager.


    "Oh-ho! Now here''s a tasty one!"


    Click. Click. Click.


    "How did Northside''s lead scientist die?"


    Lucy felt her stomach drop. She hadn''t even heard that he had died.


    Karen, always the first to fire from the hip, crossed her arms. "Maybe he didn''t die. Maybe he just ran off because he didn''t like his job."


    Lyle''s eyes twinkled, his grin widening like she''d just told the funniest joke he''d ever heard.


    "Ohhh, no, my dear, that''d be a real shame, wouldn''t it?" he crooned. "A scientist abandoning his sacred duty? No, no, no! He didn''t run. He didn''t hide. He just..." He made a sharp tearing motion with his hands and whispered, "Came apart."


    Hans visibly flinched. His breath hitched. "Wh-what do you mean... ''came apart''?"


    Lyle flexed his fingers. "Oh, right! I should''ve said¡ªhe got ripped to pieces!"


    He let out a howling cackle, hands gesturing wildly like he was illustrating some grand, gruesome masterpiece. "Torn asunder! Stripped down like an old Christmas turkey! Nothing left but ribbons and scraps!"


    Hans became rigid and tense. His knuckles were white as he gripped his knees.


    Karen had nothing to say.


    Lucy swallowed, keeping her expression neutral. "By what?"


    Lyle perched forward, lowering his voice.


    "The Monsters of the Wilds."


    The trio exchanged a look.


    Karen frowned. "Monsters?"


    Hans, still pale, muttered, "I... I heard rumors about something out there. I told you guys! You thought they were just stories."


    Lyle grinned. "Oh, they''re stories, alright. Very real stories."


    He leaned back against the ruined seat, hands behind his head. "See, whatever this little plague of ours is, it doesn''t just make people sick. Ohhh no, that''d be too simple! It twists things. Changes things."


    Hans stared. "Changes what?"


    Lyle''s eyes glinted.


    "Beasts, my boy!"


    A hush fell over them.


    "They get smarter. Stranger. Oh, sure, at first it''s all real subtle¡ªmaybe they start watching people longer than they should. Maybe they stop running when you make a loud noise. Maybe they follow you home. Maybe they start understanding things they shouldn''t."


    He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "But then? Oh-ho, then, my friends, it gets interesting."


    Lucy''s skin prickled.


    "Northside''s lead scientist," Lyle continued, "thought he could study them. Thought he could learn from them." He let out a small, amused huff. "Turns out, they learned from him."


    Hans let out a shaky breath. "No way..."


    Lyle beamed. "Ohhh, yes way! You ever see a deer with too many eyes, my dear boy? Ever hear a pack of wolves laugh before they rip out a man''s throat?" He whistled low. "Because, boy, let me tell you... that''s a sound you don''t forget."


    Lucy felt the hair on the back of her neck rise.


    Karen shook her head. "That''s¡ªThat''s gotta be bunk."


    Lyle just grinned.


    "Guess you''ll find out."


    Lucy exhaled, pressing her palms against her knees.


    "Alright, next question."


    Lyle''s grin faded. His eyes, always glinting with mischief, grew cold. He glanced between them, one by one.


    "For the most important question of all."


    The bus felt too small.


    The distant wind, rustling through abandoned cars, sounded too loud.


    Karen, always quick with a quip, said nothing.


    Hans shifted uneasily. His hands curled into fists.


    Lucy''s pulse thudded in her ears but kept her face still.


    Lyle let the pause stretch. Let the silence fester. Let them sit with it.


    And then¡ª


    His voice dropped to a whisper.


    "Why haven''t I killed each of you yet?"


    No laughter. No teasing.


    There is nothing but cold, hollow certainty.


    Hans sucked in a sharp breath.


    Karen''s throat bobbed.


    Lucy didn''t move. She didn''t even blink.


    Lyle''s fingers tapped the ticket stamper against his knee.


    Click. Click. Click.


    Hans shifted slightly, barely moving, as if afraid any sudden motion would set him off.


    Karen tensed, her body rigid as steel, like she was bracing for something¡ªanything.


    Lucy, after what felt like forever, finally spoke.


    "...Is this part of the game?"


    Then¡ª


    Lyle snorted.


    Then chuckled.


    Then he laughed¡ªloud, boisterous, slapping his knee like it was the funniest thing he''d ever heard.


    "HAHAHA! Oh-ho, you kids are priceless!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Boy, do you take things personally!"


    Karen exhaled, then smacked Lucy''s arm, eyes wide with disbelief. "Is this part of the game?" she echoed, voice shrill with exasperation. "SINCLAIR, WHAT?!"


    Hans let out a nervous, borderline panicked laugh. "That''s what you say? He just¡ªhe just¡ª"


    Lyle waved a hand while maintaining a constant smile. "Oh, relax! You''re all wonderful kids."


    "Just having a bit of fun! A little tension breaker, you know?"


    Hans stared. "That was the OPPOSITE of a tension breaker!"


    Lyle gestured with his finger. "Disagree! You''ll remember it for the rest of your lives, won''t you?"


    Karen groaned, pressing her fingers into her temples. "I hate this guy."


    Lucy exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, grounding herself. "...So. Northside?"


    Lyle beamed, spinning the ticket stamper between his fingers.


    "Of course! And since you survived my little game, well¡ªI suppose I oughta help you out."


    Hans looked like he was seriously considering punching him.


    Karen threw up her hands. "Oh, so that''s it? You terrify us for fun, then just DECIDE to be helpful?"


    Lyle shrugged. "Life''s full of surprises, kid."


    Lucy crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You''re insane."


    Lyle grinned wider, tilting his head. "And you''re catching on quick, Miss Sinclair."


    Lucy held his gaze¡ªlike she was trying to figure out what exactly she was catching on to.


    Lyle sighed dramatically, stretching his arms over his head before slumping back in the driver''s seat. "Well! I suppose I''ve had my fun. And, well... a deal''s a deal."


    He leaned forward again, gesturing lazily toward the road ahead.


    "Keep walking. Follow the black cracks in the pavement¡ªthey''ll lead you exactly where you need to go. You''ll be there by nightfall. You can''t miss it."


    Lucy frowned, glancing ahead. "The cracks?"


    Lyle gave a slow nod. "That sickness? It leaves a mark on the land. Makes the roads look like shattered glass. Convenient little trail if you know what you''re looking for."


    Hans shifted uncomfortably. "You sound like you''ve been there."


    Lyle chuckled. "I''ve been everywhere, dear boy. But Northside? Oh, now that''s a place worth visiting. Or watching from a distance. Your call."


    Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Why are you helping us?"


    Lyle tapped his temple, a grin stretching even wider.


    "Because I want to see what happens next."


    The trio exchanged uneasy glances.


    Karen muttered under her breath. "I really hate this guy."


    Lyle beamed. "I really like you, Miss Baxtor."


    The trio had barely made it a few steps before Lyle''s voice sang out behind them once more.


    "Oh, Miss Sinclair, I almost forgot!"


    Lucy turned back, wary.


    Lyle grinned wide, rocking forward in his seat. "A gift¡ªfor finishing our little game!"


    He reached down, rummaging under the seat exaggeratedly, then lifted something out, holding it toward her.


    An M1911.


    The steel caught the sunlight, its matte finish worn but well-maintained. The trio stared at it, frozen.


    Lucy blinked. "A... gun?"


    Karen groaned, crossing her arms. "Great. More sick jokes."


    Hans looked like he might pass out. "Why a gun?"


    Lyle''s grin widened. "For the animals, my boy!"


    He wiggled the pistol in the air, as if hurrying Lucy to take it.


    After a long moment, she stepped forward, hesitantly wrapping her fingers around the grip. It was heavy, cold¡ªdangerous. It was intended to cause death.


    Lucy swallowed. "The animals? So... you weren''t kidding?"


    Karen was silent now. Hans looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.


    Lyle leaned forward, voice dipping low¡ªserious.


    "Oh, no. Not at all."


    The grin was still there, but something had changed in his eyes.


    "Many of them aren''t animals anymore." His fingers tapped against the dashboard. "It''s like dealing with people... or an alien!"


    He let the last three words slip out like a joke, then chuckled to himself.


    "You''ll see."


    The trio exchanged uneasy glances.


    Lucy shifted her grip on the gun, testing the weight. "Thanks, I guess."


    Lyle perked back up, all traces of seriousness vanishing instantaneously.


    "Oh-ho, no problem, child!"


    He leaned out the window, looking at each of their faces before chuckling again.


    "Just hope it''s not a bird!"


    Lucy frowned. "A... bird?"


    Lyle''s grin stretched impossibly wide.


    "Then you''re really screwed!"


    He laughed¡ªloud and hysterical¡ªlike he was recalling some sick memory.


    The three didn''t move. Didn''t speak.


    Then, still beaming, Lyle saluted lazily, rolled up the window, and leaned back in his seat as if he had already moved on to the next entertainment.


    The engine never started. The bus never moved. However, it seemed as though he had already departed.


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans stood there momentarily, staring at the bus like it might spring to life and grab them.


    Finally, Karen exhaled. "That was the single worst conversation I have ever had."


    Lucy rubbed her forehead. "Let''s just go."


    Hans whimpered. "I hate this place."


    Without another word, the trio turned toward Northside. The cracked pavement stretched ahead, dark veins snaking into the unknown.


    And behind them, Lyle hummed to himself, watching them disappear.

 Part V: Northside

    The evening air hung thick; the road stretched ahead, empty except for the trio and the thin black tendrils creeping up the shell of abandoned automobiles.


    Karen kicked a loose rock as they walked. "So, that councilman... I suppose he wasn''t in the house after all."


    Lucy exhaled, adjusting her bag. "Seems that way, yeah. If we can trust anything Lyle said."


    Karen shrugged. "I don''t know... some of it sounded true."


    Hans looked around nervously. "I wonder if wolves really laugh at you before they, you know..."


    Karen whipped around, glaring. "They don''t!"


    Lucy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Hans. That''s insane."


    Hans rubbed his arms with indecision. "I don''t know, guys... Why did he give you a gun then?"


    Karen threw up her hands. "Because he''s crazy, you butthead!" she practically screamed. She couldn''t believe they were even entertaining the idea.


    Hans narrowed his eyes at the jungle on their left-hand side. "Uh-huh. Does it even have bullets?"


    Lucy blinked. "I''m not sure. I haven''t checked."


    Hans gestured toward her hip. "Well, check!"


    Lucy sighed, grinding to a halt and pulling the gun from where it was tucked in her waistband. The metal felt cool against her fingers.


    She turned it over in her hands, frowning. After a moment, she admitted, almost ashamedly:


    "Honestly... I don''t know. My dad never showed me that part."


    "A detective who doesn''t know how to use a gun. Boy, what a boring serial that''d be." Karen quipped.


    Lucy snorted with laughter. "Shut up."


    Hans, however, wasn''t laughing. He watched the gun, eyes locked on it like it might go off on its own. Before Lucy could react¡ª


    He reached out. "What if you just¡ª"


    "Hey, don''t touch it!" Lucy snapped, yanking it away.


    Hans staggered back. "What? I was just¡ª"


    "What if it just shoots or something?" Lucy''s voice was sharp, panicked.


    Karen rolled her eyes, resting her hands on her waist. "Gosh, you really are dumb."


    Hans held up his hands. "Yeah, but¡ª"


    Lucy cut him off, her grip tightening on the pistol. "Don''t do that again. I''m serious."


    Hans held her gaze briefly, then sighed. "Fine..."


    She let out a slow breath, tucking the handgun back where it belonged; the weight of it suddenly felt heavier.


    A swift rustling came from the field that stretched off to their right-hand side.


    Before anyone could react, a deer darted from the tall grass, hooves skidding against the pavement, stopping dead center in the road ahead.


    The trio froze.


    Hans was the first to speak. "Guys, it''s a deer!"


    Lucy didn''t take her eyes off it. "We can see that."


    Karen tilted her head. "Why is it just staring at us?"


    The deer took slow steps closer, then stopped.


    Its eyes locked onto them.


    Hans swallowed hard. "Aren''t deer supposed to... you know... run away?"


    Lucy nodded. "Yeah..."


    "Go scare it, Hans."


    Hans whipped his head toward Karen. "No way! You do it!"


    Karen rolled her eyes. "You''re the boy! You''re supposed to do it!"


    "Not happening!" He hollered.


    Lucy cut them both off. "Shut up!" Her voice was short but honed. "You guys are already yelling. It should''ve run by now."


    But the deer just stood there. Watching.


    Karen huffed. "Fine, I''ll do it."


    She stepped forward, frantically waving her arms.


    "SHOO! GET OUTTA HERE!"


    Her voice echoed down the empty road.


    The deer didn''t move. It didn''t even flinch.


    The three of them stood there, staring back at it.


    Hans''s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Shoot it."


    Lucy turned her head to him. "What?"


    Hans''s eyes stayed locked on the deer. "It''s not normal. Shoot it."


    Karen shifted uneasily. "Uh... guys?"


    The deer took another step forward. Then another.


    The closer it got, the more details came into focus.


    Its dripping eyes¡ªgray, lifeless. Its mouth¡ªhanging slightly ajar; thick black fluid oozing down its face and jaw. The same substance creeps over cars and buildings.


    Hans stepped back. "Seriously. SHOOT IT!"


    Lucy''s hand flew to her waist. She yanked out the gun, tensely clutching it.


    The instant she did¡ª


    The deer halted abruptly.


    Its head tilted toward the gun.


    Time stretched¡ªlong and agonizing.


    Without warning, it turned and bolted. Darting off the road, disappearing into the trees.


    Hans exhaled, his breath shaky. "What the¡ª?"


    Lucy lowered the gun slightly, eyes still on the woods. "That was peculiar..."


    Karen''s face had gone pale. "I think we should get out of here. Now."


    Hans looked between them. "So, Lyle wasn''t..."


    Lucy cut him off. "Let''s just go, alright? We don''t know what happened."


    Karen gulped, eyes flipping between Lucy and the M1911 in her hand.


    "Can you just... hold that for now?"


    "Good idea," Lucy stipulated.


    Darkness engulfed the terrain as the night dragged on. Northside''s mighty walls towered before them, an imposing mass of metal and concrete that seemed to extend to the horizon. Both motion and sound were nonexistent, the chirping of crickets being the only symphony.


    Hans gulped hard. His voice was small in the space around them.


    "I don''t like this."


    Karen smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Don''t worry, buddy. We''re safe now."


    Hans shot her a flat stare. "Are we?"


    Lucy squinted, examining the ominous black void beyond the walls.


    "I''m wondering why it''s so gloomy."


    Karen shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "No idea, but it''s the QA. They''ll probably surprise us at any moment or somethi¡ª"


    White light erupted all around them in a blinding flare.


    They flinched, raising their arms against the sudden assault on their senses. The night around them shattered, replaced by a stark, artificial blaze of high-powered floodlights.


    A serrated, authoritative voice rang out from beyond.


    "Stop where you are and state your business!"


    The three of them exchanged looks, blinking against the harsh glare.


    "W¡ªwe''re from Brightvale!" Lucy identified.


    "State your business!"


    A lengthy, choked reticence followed.


    Lucy exhaled, trying to keep her composure. "I''m Lucy Sinclair; I have a travel pass from the QA!"


    Another awkward pause followed; it lasted longer this time.


    "So..." Karen adjusted her stance restlessly.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The man''s voice broke through the discomfort once more.


    "You, the one holding the gun. Step forward."


    Lucy stiffened. Karen''s hand flung out, gripping her wrist.


    "Luce..."


    Before she could continue¡ª


    A gunshot rang through the night.


    The three of them flinched as the windshield of an abandoned car across the road shattered into smithereens. The reverberation clung to the breeze, rattling through their core.


    "I said step forward. Now!"


    Lucy''s heart pounded loudly in her ears. She turned to her friends, their faces stricken with a dread that was unmistakably mirrored.


    Slowly, she stepped toward the light. The man spoke again, this time with placidity.


    "All the way to the gate."


    Lucy forcefully swallowed, feeling the weight of their stares behind her as she approached the gargantuan entrance; the steel doors were featureless except for the slits where the floodlights beamed down on her like an insect caught under glass.


    "Put your weapon on the ground and step back."


    She obeyed resentfully, setting the handgun on the pavement and slowly stepping back.


    "More."


    The man kept repeating.


    "More."


    She forced herself to breathe as she stepped back further, the distance between her and the weapon expanding.


    "Now get down on your knees."


    Karen''s voice cut through the air, laced with anger.


    "Is this truly necessary?!"


    The man refused to parley. "Don''t make us kill you, girl. On your knees. Now."


    "Just do what they say, Karen."


    Reluctantly, the three of them lowered themselves onto the concrete. The world remained motionless, except for the sound of gears grinding against steel.


    The gate groaned to life, grinding open just enough to reveal the abyss beyond.


    Then¡ªthe soldiers poured out.


    They moved like machines, rifles raised, boots stomping in perfect rhythm as they spread out and encircled them, cutting off all possible escape routes.


    One of them stepped forward. A woman. Her uniform bore the insignia of the QA, but the aura around her was more dangerous.


    She leveled her rifle toward them, her voice cold and flat.


    "Are you infected?"


    Hans blinked; his breath hitched. "What? No!"


    The woman barely looked at him. "I wasn''t talking to you, munchkin. Keep your mouth shut."


    Hans tightened, his jaw clenched, but he didn''t utter another word.


    The woman stepped closer, eyes locked onto Lucy like she was waiting for the wrong answer.


    "I asked you a question."


    She knew what hesitation looked like to these people; it looked like a lie.


    "No, we''re not infected."


    The woman didn''t respond immediately. She just stared, as if measuring her.


    "Get up. Just you."


    Why just me?


    Lucy pondered briefly, eyes fixed on the ground beneath her.


    She glanced at Karen and Hans, both completely still, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, she pushed herself up.


    Hans tensed. "Wait¡ª"


    "I said keep your goddamn mouth shut!"


    Hans flinched as the woman''s voice snapped through the night. He lowered his gaze to the floor, fists clenched at his sides.


    Lucy turned toward him, worry flickering in her eyes, but he didn''t look up.


    The woman nodded toward the gate. "Get inside. Your friends will wait here for now."


    Lucy took a sluggish breath and tromped through the line of soldiers, through the gate''s gaping maw, and into the unknown.


    For what felt like minutes, neither Karen nor Hans dared to move.


    "Next one."


    The order came from deeper inside the checkpoint. The soldier''s voice was drearier than the woman''s.


    The woman lifted her rifle slightly, then jabbed it toward Karen.


    "You next."


    "Why me? What about Hans?" Karen grimaced.


    The woman didn''t answer the question. She didn''t have to.


    "Get. Up."


    Karen fumbled while rising, then turned to Hans.


    "It''ll be fine."


    Hans nodded weakly. "Yeah..."


    She forced a smile, stretching slightly as if this was just a minor inconvenience. Following Lucy''s path, Karen vanished beyond the threshold.


    The woman lowered her weapon and stepped toward Hans; the ring of rifles around him was unmoving.


    Hans looked up as she knelt before him. She studied him, her expression unreadable.


    "Your accent. Where are you from, boy?"


    Hans'' stomach curled, his mind racing.


    Was there a right answer?


    He spoke softly after a considerable pause.


    "I''m German."


    The woman''s eyes swept over him, scrutinizing his features, hunting for something camouflaged.


    "Hmm."


    She straightened up and stepped back.


    "Get up and join your friends."


    Hans didn''t need to be told twice. He sprang up and walked¡ªfast. His legs carried him forward before his mind fully caught up.


    No sooner had he passed through the entrance than he noticed Lucy and Karen waiting, concern etched across their faces.


    They sat uncomfortably in a cramped room, the sterile white walls contracting around them. The space was bare, save for the cold metal chairs beneath them and the table that separated them from the locked door. The undertone felt substantial, purposeful rather than overwhelming.


    Hans entered first as the door swung open, the woman following closely behind. She shut the door, studying them with the same keen, assessing look she had outside.


    "I''m Staff Sergeant Bailey," she said, matter-of-fact and confident. She tapped the clipboard in her hand. "Your papers look genuine."


    Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Bailey?


    She glanced at Karen¡ªa silent confirmation.


    That was the exact name they had come to Northside to look for.


    Before she could query, Bailey cut in.


    "You''re not talking. I am."


    The room grew quiet again, and a mild smile danced at Bailey''s lips.


    "That''s better."


    She looked back at her clipboard. "So, we have Lucy Sinclair, Karen Baxtor, and Hans Wagner. Major Holly herself gave you passage, huh?


    Lucy nodded. "That''s right."


    Bailey let out a short chuckle. "I bet that was a delight."


    Her tone had changed¡ªnot friendly, but no longer openly hostile.


    She studied them again, her eyes bouncing between them.


    "So, did you run into any trouble on your way here? You walked the whole way?"


    Lucy exhaled. There was no point in lying.


    "We had my car, but it broke down."


    "Broke down?" Bailey inquired.


    "We ran out of gas."


    Bailey tilted her head, lips curling into something almost amused. "Don''t worry about that. We''ll have that sorted and returned to you in Brightvale."


    Lucy squinted, her voice filled with astonishment. "Seriously? Thank you."


    Bailey waved a hand. "No sweat. It''s why we''re here."


    She looked them in the eyes, her smile lingering.


    "To assist and protect you."


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans exchanged a quick, jittery glance.


    Karen''s voice was dry. "Right."


    Lucy sat up straight. "So, can we go then?"


    Bailey''s smile didn''t fade.


    "Oh, no." She leaned forward. "You''re gonna sit right there until we''re certain you''re not infected. And after you''ve answered my questions."


    Lucy clenched her jaw. "Okay..."


    Bailey glanced at her clipboard again, pausing just long enough to be unsettling.


    She returned her gaze to the trio, her voice shockingly casual for her next question.


    "Have you ever killed anyone, Lucy? Or any of you?"


    The question hit like a sudden shift in gravity.


    Karen winced, her poise faltering. Hans choked as he gasped. Lucy''s pulse throbbed as she tried to comprehend the question.


    Neither of them answered for a spell.


    "No... uh, why?" Lucy asked, her tone laced with bewilderment.


    Bailey''s expression didn''t change.


    "Are you sure about that?" she said. "I want you to think very hard about your answer."


    Lucy''s heart clenched. She turned to Karen and Hans, but they appeared just as stunned as she was.


    "We''re kids. We haven''t killed anyone."


    Bailey observed her, her eyes brimming with skepticism.


    "Interesting..."


    Before they could even process what was happening, Bailey reached behind her back and pulled out the M1911.


    Bailey set it on the table between them, fingers resting on the steel.


    "Then where the hell did you get this gun?"


    Lucy leaned back in her chair.


    "Some crazy bus driver gave it to me."


    Bailey''s expression changed slightly to that of confusion; her posture stiffened.


    "A bus driver?"


    Karen huffed, shaking her head. "Yeah, he was completely out of it. He''s a lunatic."


    Bailey didn''t respond immediately. She studied them¡ªclosely.


    "What was his name?"


    "Lyle. You know him?"


    Bailey''s pupils focused on Lucy''s face.


    "Are you sure?"


    Lucy exchanged a quick look with Karen, then nodded.


    "That''s what he told us. Why?"


    Bailey gripped her clipboard harshly, her leg starting to twitch.


    "Where was this?"


    "A few miles back. At one of your abandoned checkpoints."


    Bailey stepped back. It wasn''t obvious, but it was there¡ªa posture adjustment, a momentary recoil, like she had just heard something that shouldn''t be possible.


    Karen leaned forward, raising an eyebrow.


    "What?"


    Bailey hesitated for a long moment. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak, but the words didn''t come.


    Then, finally¡ª


    "We don''t have any abandoned checkpoints."


    The air in the room changed.


    Hans stared at the weapon, which, judging by its model, most certainly belonged to a QA soldier. "What do you mean?"


    "They should all be manned..." Bailey murmured, mostly to herself.


    "It was near that big billboard. There was no one there except him. He was just sitting there, in a bus, in uniform." Lucy let out a faint chuckle. "He gave us the gun when we left."


    Bailey turned pale.


    She took a half step back, as if steadying herself. Then, in a voice that wasn''t nearly as controlled as before¡ª"If you''ll excuse me a moment."


    She turned toward the door, pausing to order, "Stay here."


    The silence she left behind was deafening.


    Lucy blinked. "What was that about?"


    Hans let out a slow breath. "I don''t know, but it''s weird..."


    Karen scoffed, slumping back in her chair. "''Stay here.'' As if we can go anywhere anyway."


    Shouts rang out from beyond the room, growing louder and more frantic every second. The heavy stomp of boots thundered through the corridors as soldiers rushed outside in droves.


    Karen moved toward the door, peering through the small window.


    "What the heck?"


    Hans straightened, suddenly alert. "What''s going on?"


    Karen narrowed her eyes, following the stream of armed soldiers as they exchanged commands. "Looks like they''re going to war or something."


    Lucy grimaced, replaying the events from earlier. "Because of Lyle? I don''t understand."


    "Me neither," Karen muttered, eyes still fixed on the chaotic movement outside. "But they''re all rushing out with guns."


    A moment passed between them, uncertainty hanging in the air. Then Karen spotted a familiar figure striding toward the room.


    "She''s coming."


    The door swung open, and Bailey stepped inside. Before she could speak, Lucy fired off.


    "What''s going on out there?"


    Bailey didn''t even pause. "None of your business. Here''s your papers."


    She thrust the stamped documents toward Lucy, her movements quick, distracted.


    Lucy took the paper, flipping it over briefly before looking back up.


    "Now," Bailey continued, her tone clipped. "What did you come here for?"


    Lucy''s fingers tightened around the paper. This was it.


    "I''m investigating an arson case."


    Bailey''s expression didn''t shift.


    "Councilman Geoffrey''s place."


    "Yeah. What do you know about it?"


    Bailey exhaled sharply through her nose. "Nothing you need to know. Why are you here exactly?"


    Lucy stayed firm. "We''ve come to ask a boy named Trevor some questions."


    Beside her, Karen spoke up. "Trevor Bailey..."


    Bailey''s posture changed; there was a subtle twitch in her eyes. "That''s my brother."


    Lucy gave a small nod. "Yes, I figured as much. Can we go see him?"


    "Why? He has nothing to do with it."


    Lucy folded her arms. "How can you be certain?"


    Bailey''s expression darkened. "I''m certain... What could he possibly answer for you?"


    Lucy didn''t back down. "That''s what I''ve come to find out!"


    Bailey squinted; her voice sharpened. "Did you maybe find something we''re not aware of?"


    Lucy wavered briefly.


    "No," she said. "But I have reason to believe he may be able to answer a few simple questions."


    Bailey tilted her head, a small but louring smirk teasing at her lips.


    "You came all the way here for ''a few simple questions''?"


    A long silence stretched between them.


    Karen and Hans exchanged glances. Lucy held Bailey''s stare.


    Bailey sighed. "Fine, if you insist. I don''t care."


    She motioned toward the door.


    "You''re not infected, so you''re free to go. Follow me."


    Without another word, she walked out.


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans looked at one another quickly and shrugged, almost in unison.


    As they began to follow Bailey, a young man came rushing toward her. He didn''t notice the trio as he stopped before her, looking nervous.


    "Ms. Bailey, um, ma''am."


    Bailey barely slowed. "What is it, Charlie?"


    Charlie swallowed, fidgeting slightly. "Ma''am, Test Subject 007 didn''t make it. Dr. Callahan said that they can''t keep losing patients if they''re to keep pace with Russia¡ª"


    "Enough!"


    Bailey''s voice snapped through the space, loud and firm.


    After hearing enough of the discussion and knowing it was important, Lucy, Karen, and Hans stepped into the main area.


    Charlie froze, stunned. Bailey exhaled sharply, realizing too late that the three teenagers had heard every word.


    "Thank you. Now walk away."


    Charlie nodded quickly. His eyes drifted toward the trio, widening as realization struck, before he scurried off.


    Lucy and Karen barely had time to speak before Bailey turned toward them, fixing them with a menacing stare.


    A silent warning.


    Then, without another word, she started toward a large building at the other end.


    Outside, the rain had started. Droplets dripped from the structures, pooling in the cracks of the concrete. Along with the scent of damp pavement, there was another, more sterile aroma in the air.


    Bailey didn''t seem to notice. "Just through here," she muttered, guiding them to the entrance. "We''ll assign you a room, and an escort will arrive in the morning to transport you to Sunny Brook."


    "Thanks again." Lucy hesitated. She couldn''t help herself.


    "What about back there?" she asked, voice anchored. "What did that boy say about test subjects and Russia? And, what about Lyle?"


    Bailey paused, then slowly turned to Lucy, her stare colder than the rain.


    "Nothing you need to worry about."


    Lucy didn''t buy that for a second.


    "Maybe it could help my investigation someho¡ª"


    "Kid, this is a matter of national security. It''s not relevant to your little ''case.''"


    Her voice was sharper now. Any hint of forced politeness was gone.


    "You have your papers. Now get out of my sight."


    She didn''t wait for a response.


    She walked away, disappearing into the storm, leaving the trio standing there¡ªdripping, confused, and with more questions than answers.

 Part VI: Trevor Bailey

    A sharp, metallic clanging interrupted the trio''s dreams. They jolted awake, hearts hammering, the remnants of sleep evaporating instantaneously. Beyond the window, a figure came into view.


    CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.


    A QA soldier stood outside, truncheon in hand, lazily tapping it against the glass.


    "Breakfast time! Wake up, ladies!"


    Lucy let out a long, exhausted sigh and collapsed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. From the next cot over, Karen groaned loud enough to shake the walls.


    "Was that necessary?"


    Hans rubbed his eyes, his hair sticking up at odd angles. "Did he just call me a lady?"


    Karen, still half-asleep, smirked. "He did, princess."


    Hans glared at her. "Oh, hush up."


    After getting dressed and shuffling through the halls under armed escort, the trio found themselves inside a surprisingly warm, lively cafeteria.


    And the smell¡ª


    Lucy''s eyes widened. Hans gasped like he had just seen heaven.


    The table was stacked with food¡ªpancakes, eggs, bacon, beans, potatoes, sausages, and even thin slices of steak.


    Hans all but threw himself into a chair. "Holy crap, guys!"


    Karen shook her head in disbelief. "Golly, I haven''t seen a spread like this since Before."


    Lucy, still taking in the sight of the feast, smirked. "Had I known, I would have asked Ollie to accompany us!"


    Karen snorted. "I don''t think he could have survived Lyle."


    Lucy chuckled. "You may be right."


    They dug in. For the first time since arriving, things almost felt normal.


    A soldier stood waiting at the front desk after breakfast. "An escort will arrive soon to bring you to Sunnybrook."


    Lucy nodded. "Thank you."


    Karen leaned against the counter, grinning.


    "We''ve received quite the promotion! Prisoners to royalty!"


    Hans placed a mock hand over his heart, wiping away an invisible tear.


    "Who knew! My mom would be so proud."


    Karen smirked. "You should write her a letter, telling her how far you''ve come."


    Hans sighed dramatically. "Alas, dear mother, they have imprisoned me, interrogated me, and force-fed me pancakes. But worry not! I am now a distinguished guest of the Quarantine Authority!"


    Lucy laughed, shaking her head.


    For a moment¡ªjust a moment¡ªthings felt okay. Then¡ªthe soldier straightened as footsteps approached.


    Their escort had arrived. Private Hanson was young, maybe nineteen, and far more relaxed than the other soldiers they had encountered. He was also attractive in a way that would likely turn heads back in Brightvale.


    The US military insignias and markings on the Jeep stood out against the dull greenish-gray paint.


    Hans sat up front, beside Hanson, while Lucy and Karen took the back. For most of the ride, silence reigned. Then¡ªLucy broke it.


    "So, Private Hanson, do you know Sergeant Bailey well?"


    Hanson kept his eyes on the road. "Nope. Only by name. I never met her myself."


    Lucy frowned slightly.


    "I see..."


    That was unfortunate. If he didn''t know Bailey, he likely wouldn''t know anything about the test subject they overheard or anything else happening behind Northside''s walls. There was no use in pressing further.


    Karen leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of Hanson''s seat.


    "Do you have a girlfriend?"


    Hanson let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. "I do not," he admitted. "We''re not allowed such things... No time anyway."


    Lucy tilted her head. "You''re not allowed to have relations?"


    Hanson shook his head. "Nope."


    Karen grinned mischievously.


    "Wow. So you''re all virgins?"


    Lucy''s face burned.


    "KAREN!"


    Hans immediately put his head in his hands. "Jesus, Karen... you''re the worst."


    Hanson, to his credit, just laughed. "I never have myself," he admitted. "Can''t say anything about the others."


    Lucy groaned. "Drop the subject! Please!"


    Hans groaned even louder. "Yes, please do."


    Karen rolled her eyes. "Lighten up! When was the last time you got to tease a soldier who didn''t want to arrest you?"


    Hanson grinned. "She has a point."


    Lucy shook her head again. "No... no, she doesn''t."


    Hans muttered, "She really doesn''t."


    The military jeep rumbled to a stop in front of a quiet, picturesque suburban house. Hans leaned forward slightly, taking in the pristine streets, neatly trimmed lawns, and houses that seemed to have been preserved in time. It was jarring. After everything they had seen in Northside¡ªthe concrete walls, the cold, sterile halls, the military presence¡ªit was almost unnatural to see something so tranquil.


    Hanson put the Jeep in park, stretching slightly.


    "Here it is. Try not to take up too much of Mr. Trevor''s time."


    Karen snorted. "''Mr. Trevor?''"


    Hanson chuckled. "Yes. He''s a brilliant kid. He fixes and builds tons of things for us, so his time is very valuable."


    Karen''s eyebrow perked up, a grin at her lips. "Gosh, I knew he was a dork, but I didn''t know he was that smart."


    Hanson laughed lightly. "I guess. Of course, he received training, but his performance was exceptional.


    Lucy tilted her head. "You went to school with him? You''re like, three years apart."


    Hanson nodded. "Yeah. Classes here are all ages together. I wasn''t quite as smart, so I''m here."


    Karen smirked. "And now, he''s ''Mr. Trevor.''"


    Lucy glanced out the window again, eyes scanning the seemingly perfect neighborhood. "And this was at the all-boys school?"


    "Yeah."


    Lucy''s eyes narrowed slightly. "Is there an all-girls school too?"


    "I, uhh... well..." Hanson trailed off.


    The hesitation lasted just a second too long. A quick¡ª"Yeah, kinda," followed.


    Lucy and Karen exchanged glances. "Kinda?" she pressed.


    Hanson''s posture shifted ever so slightly, but his tone stayed casual.


    "We can''t discuss things with civilians, but yes, that''s it."


    Hans, sitting quietly up front, didn''t say a word.


    "Anyways," Hanson continued, clearly eager to change the subject, "you''ll probably want to explore during your visit. There''s a market town close by and an entertainment district. You can ask one of the soldiers for directions. Just stay away from the center of Northside."


    "Why?" Hans quietly asked.


    "Well, that''s where we keep our prisoners. You can''t get in there anyway, but just to let you know."


    Lucy blinked. "You keep prisoners in the center of all this?"


    Hanson nodded. "Yup! That''s where our prison is."


    Karen frowned. "That can''t be safe at all..."


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Hanson laughed. "Don''t worry! The prison is right in the center, separated by a wall and a humongous moat. Let''s just say you don''t wanna fall in there."


    Lucy exchanged a look with Karen. "Besides the obvious, why is that?"


    Hanson grinned. "It''s filled with spikes and shards, plus all the explosives. There''s another wall separating that. Not to mention the army of soldiers stationed around the whole thing. The criminals have nowhere to go."


    Lucy sat back. "That''s... quite unbelievable."


    Karen smirked. "I bet it looks swell!"


    Hans muttered, "I bet it doesn''t..."


    Hanson chuckled. "Ha, it is pretty neat. Unfortunately, you won''t be able to see it. Hopefully not anyway!"


    Karen leaned forward dramatically. "Unfortunately!"


    Lucy shook her head, deciding this conversation had gone far enough.


    "Thank you for the information, Pvt. Hanson. We should be going."


    Hanson nodded. "Of course. I''ll be here tomorrow morning to bring you back to see Sgt. Bailey."


    "Until then."


    Karen shot Hanson a playful wink. "See you tomorrow, handsome!"


    Hans, barely looking up from his lap, soberly bobbed his head once.


    The trio walked up the front path as Pvt. Hanson''s jeep rumbled away, leaving them in front of the pristine, suburban home.


    Lucy glanced at the house. "So, what''s he like? I don''t remember."


    "He was always a bit... weird. He has a funny way of talking. It''s kinda cute. You''ll see."


    Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Right. I was never fond of him myself."


    Karen grinned. "I love it! He''s like a little talking robot."


    Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "If you say so."


    She knocked on the door, waiting momentarily, then pressed the doorbell.


    Not long after, the door creaked open. Trevor stood there¡ªstill, unreadable, and very much not speaking. He simply stared at them.


    Lucy gave a polite nod. "Hi."


    Trevor blinked. "Hello."


    Hans raised a hand. "Hi, I''m Hans."


    Trevor nodded slightly, his gaze locked on Hans like he was scanning a new specimen. "Hello, Hans. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."


    Karen shifted a bit. "Uh, Trevor, hello? It''s me... Karen."


    Trevor''s eyes flicked to her.


    "Oh yes, I remember you. You used to engage in unauthorized duplication of my homebound assignments, then systematically ignored all attempts at verbal engagement during our academic years."


    Lucy laughed, turning to Karen. "Is that right?"


    Karen crossed her arms. "Hearsay!" She cleared her throat. "Can we come in?"


    Trevor didn''t move. "Why?"


    Karen gestured dramatically. "Oh, we were just in town, and I thought I''d check up on my ol'' buddy Trev!"


    Trevor didn''t blink. "We are not companions."


    Hans smirked. "Wow, Karen... what a nice lead you brought us to."


    Karen glared at him. "Shut up, Hans! Can we come in or not?"


    Trevor looked around, scanning the perimeter like he was verifying security protocols. Then, after a long pause¡ª


    "...Fine."


    They stepped inside, and just like the rest of Sunnybrook, the house was spotless¡ªimmaculate, untouched by time. It looked exactly like life before the plague.


    Lucy glanced around. "Nice place."


    "Thank you."


    Karen looked around. "Nobody''s home?"


    "No."


    Lucy scanned the clean home. "Is it just you living here? It''s such a big house."


    "Correct."


    Lucy hesitated. "Why?"


    Trevor folded his hands behind his back.


    "Technically, it is just me and my sister, whom you''ve met; but since she predominantly remains stationed on base, yes, functionally speaking, I am the sole resident of this domicile."


    Karen stretched uncomfortably. "Where are your parents? Or¡­?"


    Trevor''s response was blunt, direct, and almost clinical. "They''ve perished."


    Lucy''s expression softened. "I''m so sorry to hear that."


    Hans nodded. "Yeah, my condolences."


    Karen frowned deeply. "That''s dreadful! I''m so sorry. My mom didn''t make it either."


    Trevor nodded once. "That is a shame. She was a pleasant lady."


    Karen''s throat tightened. "She was..."


    Her mind drifted, but before the silence could linger too long, Lucy stepped in, changing the conversation.


    "So! What do you do here? We heard you make gizmos for the QA."


    Trevor''s eyes lit up.


    "That is correct. I tinker, fix, or otherwise build many-a-things for them. My inventions will single-handedly save and otherwise reclaim this planet, ensuring mankind''s continued and utter survival."


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans glanced at each other, suppressing smiles.


    Trevor continued, undeterred. "I know it sounds absurd, but I assure you, my brain will outsmart, outthink, and outgun this disaster. Mark my words."


    Lucy raised an eyebrow. "How? What exactly do you make?"


    Trevor lifted his chin.


    "You would not comprehend my work, but I appreciate the interest. Needless to say, and long story short, we will win because of me. The QA protects and ensures our survival so that individuals like myself can continue to bring mankind into the future. They have my utmost respect¡ªno one else could do it better. God bless America."


    The three of them just stared at him. Karen, in particular, was wide-eyed, brows raised.


    After a long shake¡ª


    "I told you he was smart."


    Lucy chuckled. "I''m quite speechless."


    Hans swayed slowly. "Yeah, I really hope that''s true."


    "It is."


    Lucy glanced around the house before turning back to Trevor. "I don''t mean to impose, but it''s very urgent. Karen tells me your grandfather is from Canada? And knows French?"


    Trevor stared at her momentarily. Karen, sensing hesitation, quickly chimed in.


    "You can trust her. She''s a detective!"


    Trevor exhaled through his nose.


    "I know who she is. I was briefed and made the connection with the Sinclair name, formulating an effortless assumption that there was absolutely, positively, no doubt in my mind, a direct relation between her and Detective Sinclair. Why else would someone neither armed to the teeth nor engaged in an official mission arrive at my doorstep?"


    There was a brief pause, then he continued as if nothing had happened.


    "But yes, Karen was indeed correct."


    Karen grinned, nudging Lucy. "Told ya!"


    Lucy''s eyes lit up as she dug into her bag and pulled out the notebook.


    "I found this notebook. It''s in French, and Karen said you could probably read it! If you can translate it all, that''d be even better¡ªif you''re not too busy."


    Trevor accepted the notebook, flipping through the pages with quick, calculated glances.


    "It is a bold request you ask of me, Ms. Sinclair, as I am indeed a very busy individual."


    He paused, looking back at her, a faint smile forming.


    "It is your lucky day, however, for I have no project at this time requiring my immediate attention. And I will admit, a hasty glance has piqued my curiosity enough to oblige your request. I can have a manuscript prepared by tomorrow, before your departure."


    Lucy''s jaw dropped. "Wait, seriously?!"


    Karen pumped a fist. "Heck yeah! I told you he''s the best."


    Trevor nodded solemnly. "I am undoubtedly, undeniably, and without reason to believe otherwise... the best."


    Hans sighed, shaking his head¡ªbut for once, he was smiling. "Finally, we''re getting somewhere!"


    Karen and Hans continued to engage Trevor in conversation; Lucy drifted away.


    The house was spotless, just like the rest of Sunnybrook. She ran her fingers along the edges of a bike chain, left coiled neatly on a table. It was probably part of one of Trevor''s so-called "inventions," but all she could think about was the day her father taught her to ride.


    How many times had she fallen? How many times had he told her to get back up?


    Her gaze drifted to an ugly vase sitting atop a shelf. The vase bore a striking resemblance to the one she had gifted to her mother when she was a child¡ªthe same one that had suffered a knock and shattered. She could still remember crying with her mother, devastated over the loss, only for her dad to sneak away and return with a replacement, pretending it was the same one, miraculously whole again.


    The memory felt warm and distant¡ªlike it belonged to another life. Another person.


    Lucy turned toward the walls. Two movie posters caught her eye.


    The Fourth Man¡ªa noir crime thriller, its tagline visible: Trust No One. It reminded her, unsettlingly, of what she was doing now.


    Beside it, another title: She Rode a Crimson Trail¡ªa gritty western she''d once watched with Ollie.


    There were band posters, too.


    The Soot Marks, a band she used to love.


    Frankie Solano; although not exactly her style, her dad had a soft spot for him.


    And, Dolly Rae, a singer who gained fame for her performances at The Jefferson Jazz Joint.


    Each detail made her feel strangely detached, as if she had stepped into an alternate version of the past.


    Then¡ªher eyes landed on a picture.


    It was a family photo, or perhaps just a group photo.


    She stepped closer. Trevor is noticeably younger. His parents are standing tall. Sergeant Bailey appeared considerably less intimidating than she did the day before.


    However, the two other figures caused Lucy''s breath to catch in her throat.


    The first was Ethan Bennett. The QA had arrested him hours before the explosion.


    And the second...


    Her heart sank, and she got a knot in her stomach.


    The man she saw running from the burning house.


    The face was the same¡ªunmistakable¡ªseared into her memory.


    She swallowed hard.


    The notebook, the dog tags.


    They must have belonged to him.


    She stepped back, the muffled conversation behind her growing louder, though it barely registered through the haze of her thoughts.


    Then¡ªa voice cut through.


    "Lucy? Hello?"


    She blinked, turning toward Karen. Her friend was watching her, concern written across her face. Trevor was approaching from the other side of the room. Hans had already stepped outside.


    Karen frowned. "What''s wrong?"


    Lucy hesitated. For a brief second, she considered telling her¡ªtelling both of them. But instead, she forced herself to shake it off¡ª bury it for now. She looked away from Karen''s probing eyes, back at the framed photograph on the wall.


    "Hey, Trevor..."


    Trevor stopped mid-step, folding his hands neatly behind his back.


    "Yes?"


    Lucy gulped. "This picture¡ªwhat is it? Is this your family?"


    Trevor barely glanced at it before responding, his tone perfectly matter-of-fact. "Yes. That is a photograph showcasing yours truly, my parents, my loving sister, and otherwise individuals of close familial relations."


    "Judging by the other photos in the house, this must be your mom, dad, and sister. So... who''s this?"


    She pointed to Mr. Bennett.


    "That is Mr. Ethan Bennett. He was a companion of my father."


    Lucy''s breath hitched slightly. "I recognize him from Brightvale. He owns the shop Ethan''s Electronics."


    Trevor gave a tiny nod. "That is correct. Though I do not know what became of him or his lovely store since my departure."


    Lucy and Karen exchanged a look¡ªboth equally concerned. Lucy hesitated before speaking again.


    "He''s fine..." she lied.


    She turned her attention to the second man in the photo.


    "Who''s this other man?"


    Trevor glanced at the picture again.


    "That is my uncle."


    Lucy''s stomach tightened. The knot in her gut grew heavier.


    "Are you close with him?"


    Trevor shook his head, his response smooth¡ªand without hesitation.


    "No. I have not seen him for an extended period, in which I do not recall."


    Lucy sighed softly. "What''s his name?"


    Trevor''s response was simple, direct, and completely unaware of the weight it carried.


    "Marin Porter. From my mother''s side."


    Lucy didn''t recognize the name at all. "I see... Well, hey! We should get going. See what Northside has to offer before we go home tomorrow."


    Karen perked up. "You should come with us!"


    Trevor''s expression didn''t change. "I cannot."


    Karen pouted. "Aww, come on!"


    Trevor shook his head. "I must remain here. Or otherwise in the localized vicinity."


    Lucy''s raised one brow. "Why?"


    For the first time, Trevor hesitated. Something flickered across his face, as if he''d said something he shouldn''t have. Then, with a swift posture adjustment, he rolled into a far more arrogant response.


    "I simply imply that I am a man of ample sophistication; therefore, I find it quite displeasurable to engage in verbal communication with the... average folk, as it were."


    Lucy scoffed. "You''re pretty cocky, huh?"


    Trevor lifted his chin. "I have no reason to believe otherwise. With the QA''s continued assistance, I have helped many-a-people. And I will continue to do so."


    Karen crossed her arms, leaning back. "With their assistance, huh? Are you sure it''s not the other way around?"


    Trevor blinked, then shrugged.


    "You may be right, Miss Karen Surname-in-which-I-cannot-remember. However, if we cannot beat this pathogen without my continued scientific and otherwise mechanical expertise¡ªwho''s actually assisting who?"


    Karen''s smirk reduced slightly¡ªa more intrigued look playing across her features.


    "It''s Baxtor," she corrected.


    Trevor inclined his head slightly.


    "Miss Karen Baxtor. I will not be accompanying you and your compadre here on your galivanting around our wonderful QZ. Especially if I am to translate this darn thing in time for your return to Brightvale."


    Lucy sighed but nodded. "Thank you again for that."


    Trevor waved it off. "Think nothing of it. Even if I did not enjoy your presence, I would comply regardless, as I wish to know what is scribbled down in said sheets of paper."


    "You can''t do that while ''galivanting''?"


    Trevor gave Karen a look. "I can, but I will not. I also supremely believe I would not be a suitable galivanting companion that would provide the necessary levels of entertainment that you two girls may require."


    Lucy sighed, shaking her head in frustration as she walked away. "Okay. Bye, Trevor. Thanks again."


    Karen lingered a moment.


    "I disagree."


    She stepped past him, heading for the doorway¡ªthen, just before stepping out, she turned back and gave a small, awkward gesture.


    "Just sayin''."

 Part VII: The Festival

    The streets of West Hill Marketplace were alive with movement, filled with the steady hum of conversation, the casual motion of money being exchanged for goods, and the occasional laughter of children weaving through crowds. It was an image of prosperity, the kind of scene that belonged to a world untouched by war, plague, or quarantine.


    Had Lucy not known any better, she may have mistakenly believed she''d traveled back in time.


    Stalls lined both sides of the broad, well-maintained street, their awnings casting strips of shade over tables brimming with produce. The air carried the scent of fresh bread, seared meat, and a sweetness¡ªcaramel, chocolate, warm vanilla. Farmers sold plump tomatoes and ripe peaches without a hint of scarcity. Tailors displayed fine clothing in storefront windows, the fabrics crisp and clean as if untouched by dirt and time. Even a jeweler had a modest display set up, his glass cases catching the light, reflecting tiny sparks of silver and gold.


    Everything was perfect.


    There were no signs of rationing. No half-empty shelves. No lingering desperation in the eyes of shoppers, no hurried glances over shoulders, or quick trades of contraband. But most importantly, there was little-to-no QA presence. Instead, there was the familiar sight of standard police officers acting as Lucy remembered from Before. People smiled, talked to shopkeepers by name, and moved like they had nowhere else to be. It was a town that had no business existing two years after the outbreak.


    Lucy, Karen, and Hans walked through West Hill Marketplace, each taking in the scenery with varying levels of awe and skepticism. Karen, predictably, seemed delighted, her eyes darting between shops like a child in a candy store.


    "Tell me this isn''t the most beautiful place you''ve ever seen!" She said, nudging Lucy with her elbow.


    Hans gave a low whistle, hands stuffed in his pockets. "It sure is swell. Brightvale''s got nothing on this!"


    Lucy didn''t respond immediately. She watched a woman leave a bakery, her arms full of neatly wrapped loaves, exchanging casual conversation with the owner before strolling away. There was an ease here, a peace that felt almost surreal.


    Something about it made her stomach tighten.


    As they strolled deeper into the marketplace, the trio took in the surreal normalcy around them. Karen, still enamored with the bustling scene, twirled in place.


    "So? Where do we start?"


    Lucy exhaled, grounding herself. "Let''s start by figuring out what we know so far."


    Hans nodded, hands still in his pockets. "Right. So, we''ve got that Ethan Bennett fellow¡ªarrested before the fire. And then there''s the guy who ran from the scene, Martin Porter."


    Lucy folded her arms. "Both of them were in that picture at Trevor''s house. That''s not a coincidence."


    "And the dog tags," Hans added. "The ones marked ''47; shame you had to hand them over to Holly."


    Karen made a face. "You think she actually looked into them?"


    Lucy shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. She seemed interested, though."


    "And then there''s the French notebook," Hans reminded them, "Trevor''s still translating it. No clue how it fits in yet," his mind trailed off, "There''s also Councilman Geoffry, who''s allegedly still alive..."


    "The "communist" arrests at The Protective Measure..." he continued.


    "Wow, you really are helpful, huh?" Karen jested, a hint of mockery in her tone. "We don''t have to remember anything with this guy around."


    "I try." Hans joked back, gesturing with his hand, followed by a bow.


    Karen raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "Gosh, you''re such a dork."


    Lucy chuckled, turning to Hans. "There''s also Lyle."


    Hans scoffed. "As if we could ever forget him."


    "And Bailey''s reaction when we mentioned his name," Karen added, her voice quieter.


    "Right," Lucy muttered. "That was the strongest reaction we''ve seen from anyone."


    Hans glanced around before lowering his voice. "And, there''s that deer."


    Karen shuddered. "Yeah... that sick deer."


    Lucy nodded, rubbing her shoulder. "Then there''s the whole ''Test Subject'' thing. And whatever they meant by ''keeping pace with Russia.''"


    Karen huffed, arms crossed. "You''d think we''d have enough puzzle pieces to see a fuller picture by now."


    Lucy''s gaze drifted over the crowd, watching as a young girl skipped past, holding a candy apple like nothing in the world was wrong. Like possibly every stray animal on Earth wasn''t a horrific abomination.


    Why would it stop at a deer? The realization finally dawned on her before turning her attention back to her friends.


    "We''re missing something," she murmured. "We just don''t know what yet."


    They found themselves near a central plaza as they explored the heart of the market, where people gathered around a large wooden announcement board. A few pinned-up notices fluttered in the light breeze¡ªTown Hall schedules, community events, and what looked like an official QA bulletin.


    It wasn''t the board that caught their attention, though. It was the people.


    Nearby, a group of locals chatted excitedly.


    "Are you going?" one woman asked, adjusting the basket on her hip.


    "Of course! Wouldn''t miss it!" her companion replied. "Last year''s was incredible."


    Karen perked up. "Last year''s what?"


    Before they could press further, a nearby vendor¡ªa stocky man setting up a crate of fresh oranges¡ªchimed in, catching Karen''s enthusiasm.


    "The festival, of course!" He wiped his hands on his apron, beaming. "The Rosewood Creek Festival¡ªbiggest event of the season! You kids should go!"


    Karen lit up. "Oh, we''re so going."


    Hans shifted beside her, unimpressed. "Are we, though?"


    She looped her arm through his and yanked him toward the next row of stalls. "Uh, yeah, we absolutely are."


    Hans sighed in resignation, letting himself be dragged along. "The world is over, but this is how I die?"


    Lucy wasn''t so quick to jump in. She glanced back at the vendor. "What''s the festival for?"


    "Doesn''t need a reason," he laughed. "Just a wonderful time! Food, music, games¡ªsame as last year."


    Lucy processed that. A tradition? Two years after the outbreak?


    She glanced at the people around her, still beaming and completely unaware. Their demeanor remained entirely normal.


    Karen, now several steps ahead, called back over her shoulder. "Come on, Luce, you know we have to check it out!"


    Lucy hesitated for a second longer before thanking the man and falling into step beside them. "Fine," she said. "I guess we''ve nothing to do until morning, but we didn''t really come here to have fun."


    Karen grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You can watch while I win a giant stuffed bear."


    The transition from the marketplace to Rosewood Creek was like stepping into another world.


    Bright string-lights crisscrossed above, glowing in warm yellows and soft reds. Banners and streamers fluttered between lampposts, swaying in the cool evening breeze. The scent of fried dough and buttered popcorn filled the air, mixing with the distant sound of a carousel organ, the occasional pop of a BB gun at a shooting range, and the overlapping chatter of festival-goers. Children raced between booths, their laughter carrying over the crowd. A Ferris wheel loomed in the distance, its lights blinking in a mesmerizing rhythm. There were stalls lined with cotton candy, caramel apples, roasted nuts¡ªfoods Lucy hadn''t seen this plentiful in years.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    She would''ve believed she was back in the familiar, small-town Virginia she once knew.


    "Tell me this isn''t gonna be the most fun we''ve had in years!" Karen smiled and spun around to face them.


    Hans eyed the flashing neon signs and prize booths warily. "I mean, it looks fun. I just¡ª" he glanced at Lucy. "Something about this place doesn''t feel right. How is this possible?"


    Lucy didn''t answer right away. She was too focused on watching the people¡ªspecifically, she watched how no one looked over their shoulder. No one seemed remotely concerned about anything beyond the next game or ride. She could practically feel the illusion wrapping around them.


    But before she could say anything, Karen grabbed her and Hans'' arms, dragging them forward.


    "C''mon, you two conspiracy nuts," she teased. "We''ve got a festival to enjoy!"


    Lucy didn''t let herself get caught up in the festival''s atmosphere¡ªnot totally.


    As Karen pulled them deeper into the fairgrounds, Lucy''s eyes flicked from stall to stall, scanning faces, watching interactions, looking for anything suspicious. No one looked wary. No one questioned why things were still so perfect.


    Hans, on the other hand, had already let himself unwind.


    He leaned against a stall, munching on a bag of roasted peanuts, watching Karen excitedly eye the games. "You know, this is pretty nice," he admitted between bites.


    Karen smirked. "See? You just needed to stop thinking for once."


    Hans rolled his eyes but didn''t argue.


    She dragged him to a ball-tossing game, where he only managed to knock over exactly one bottle before giving up in disgrace. On the other hand, Karen did the opposite, sending every bottle flying with a single throw.


    Lucy, despite herself, let Karen convince her to try a fried dough stand. The first bite¡ªwarm, buttery, dusted in cinnamon sugar¡ªwas so overwhelmingly nostalgic that she let herself forget what they were doing here.


    Then, there was the cotton candy station¡ªKaren''s idea, naturally.


    "Okay, this is an art form," she announced, expertly twirling the stick as the fluffy pink sugar formed around it. She held up her perfect cotton candy with pride.


    Hans attempted to make his own and ended up with a sad, lopsided mess. "This machine is rigged," he muttered, glaring at it.


    Lucy; trying to avoid participating, found Karen thrusting a stick into her hands.


    "You have to try," she insisted. "It''s, like, a festival rule."


    Lucy let out a sigh and proceeded, partially anticipating a disastrous outcome. But after a few awkward attempts, she managed to form a decent-looking bundle of spun sugar.


    Karen beamed. "See? You''re a natural! Hans, on the other hand..."


    She then snorted from laughing. "Hans... other hand... get it?"


    "Yeah, real original," he said while attempting to fix his mess-on-a-stick, "who''s the dork now?"


    Lucy took a bite, letting the sugar dissolve on her tongue, and found herself smiling before she even realized it.


    The dancing came soon after.


    A small live band had set up near the center of the fairgrounds, playing a mix of big band swing and early rock ''n'' roll. Couples and groups had started gathering, moving to the upbeat rhythm.


    Lucy, instinctively, took a step back, glancing at Karen. "No."


    Karen grabbed Lucy''s wrist immediately. "Oh, yes."


    "I don''t dance," she said, resisting Karen''s dire yanking


    "Wanna bet?"


    Before Lucy could argue, Karen had already pulled her forward, spinning her into the crowd.


    At first, Lucy was stiff, watching everyone else, feeling painfully aware of her own swaying. But Karen was relentless, keeping her laughing, guiding her along with the music until¡ª


    She finally loosened up.


    "That''s it! Boogey!" Karen yelled, twisting her elbows and hips to the rhythm.


    For the first time since arriving in Northside, Lucy let herself enjoy the moment; just for a little while.


    The festive afternoon continued, and the trio had just finished another round of games¡ªHans losing spectacularly at darts while Karen gloated over a small stuffed animal prize¡ªwhen Lucy turned to grab a snack from a nearby food stall.


    Just as she stepped forward, she collided into someone.


    "Whoa¡ª"


    She barely had time to react before the stranger caught her by the arms, steadying her.


    "Careful there," the boy said smoothly, offering a quick grin before releasing her.


    Lucy stepped back, eyeing him. He was their age, 16, a little taller than Hans, with long, dark hair and a relaxed stance like someone who wasn''t in a hurry to be anywhere. Unlike the other Northside kids, who carried an air of easy, unbothered contentment, this one felt... different.


    Karen, never one to miss an opportunity, was already leaning in.


    "Hey there, stranger! Haven''t seen you around," she said, giving him an appraising look.


    He smirked. "I could say the same thing about you. Are you guys new?"


    Hans, already suspicious, crossed his arms. "Who''s asking?"


    "Calvin Brooks," he answered, offering a casual nod. "I prefer just ''Cal,'' if you don''t mind. And you?"


    Karen jumped in first. "Karen Baxtor! This is Hans, and the one who almost trampled you, is Lucy."


    Lucy shot her a look. "What? He bumped into me!"


    "Technicalities," Karen dismissed with a wave. "Anyway¡ªare you from around here?"


    Cal took his time answering. "Yeah, West Hill."


    Lucy narrowed her eyes slightly. Something about him didn''t quite fit the clean-cut, unquestioning mold of Northside''s other citizens.


    "So you''re a local?" she asked, testing.


    Cal''s grin didn''t waver, but there was a flicker in his expression¡ªa quiet amusement, like he knew what she was doing.


    "Something like that," he said.


    Lucy wasn''t sure why, but she suspected he wasn''t being completely honest.


    Karen, meanwhile, had already decided he was intriguing enough to stick around.


    "Well, Cal," she said, looping an arm through his, completely ignoring personal space. "Since we''re new here and all, how about showing us around?"


    Hans muttered something under his breath before speaking up, "Do we get a say in this?"


    "Nope," Karen replied cheerfully.


    Cal glanced at Lucy, his eyes glinting with amusement. "What do you think? Up for a little tour?"


    Lucy held his gaze for a moment before tilting her head. "Depends. Do you actually know anything worth showing, or are you just looking for an excuse to flirt?"


    Cal''s smirk widened. "Who says it can''t be both?"


    Karen gasped dramatically. "Lucy! I like this one."


    Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn''t quite suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.


    "Fine," she said. "Lead the way."


    As they wandered deeper into the festival, the energy around them buzzed with excitement¡ªthe distant hum of carnival rides, the cheerful chatter of festival-goers, the smell of popcorn and fried food thick in the air. Cal led them past street performers, where a man in a crisp white suit balanced on a rolling barrel, flipping coins in the air and catching them between his fingers while reciting some speech about perseverance and unity. Nearby, a woman in a sequined dress sang a jazz tune, her voice smooth and effortless, working the crowd like she was born to do.


    Lucy couldn''t help but get the impression that it was all a tad too much. Karen, of course, was thriving.


    "This place has everything," she marveled, nudging Hans as they passed a vendor selling costumes. "Try and tell me you''re not impressed... go on."


    Hans, munching on a stick with BBQ''d meat and vegetables, gave a noncommittal grunt. "Very impressed."


    Cal; walking beside Lucy, caught how her eyes scanned everything with the same shrewd look his did. "You always this skeptical at fairs?" he asked, grinning.


    Lucy gave him a sidelong look. "The masters that be haven''t given me much-a-reason to trust anything with their stamp on it."


    Cal chuckled. "Smart girl."


    He suddenly veered toward a nearby stall¡ªa booth lined with hanging trinkets, keychains, and car accessories. "Hang on," he said, stepping up to the vendor.


    After a brief exchange, he returned with something in hand.


    Lucy blinked awkwardly. "Are those¡ª?"


    A pair of pink fuzzy dice.


    Cal held them out to her, grinning. "Seemed like your kind of thing."


    Karen snorted. "You don''t know her at all, if you think that''s her kind of thing."


    Lucy just stared at them. The worst part was she wasn''t sure if Cal was messing with her or if he genuinely thought she''d like them, but she took them anyway, giving him a look. "You know these are going in my glove box, right?"


    Cal smirked. "Fine by me."


    Karen leaned in, whispering in her ear. "Lucy, I think he likes you."


    Lucy groaned. "I think he''s just being nice."


    Hans, arms crossed, muttered, "Why do girls always get the gifts?"


    Shortly after, Karen and Hans wandered off to a BB gun shooting gallery, where Karen was doing surprisingly well while Hans muttered about the sights being crooked.


    Lucy, meanwhile, found herself at a dart-throwing stall with Cal.


    The game was simple¡ªpop enough balloons, win a prize. But Lucy barely paid attention to the target. She focused on the stall clerk instead.


    "Got your eye on any prizes?" the man asked, his smile overly friendly.


    Cal threw a dart, popping a balloon with practiced ease. "Nah, just killing time."


    Lucy picked up a dart, but her mind was elsewhere.


    The clerk had been chatting with another customer when they walked up, but something struck her. His conversation had been about work schedules, a neighbor''s new dog, the upcoming winter rations¡ª


    Still, not once did anyone mention the outside world.


    No talk of family in other cities. No curiosity about what was beyond Northside''s walls. Nothing. Their entire world appeared to cease at the gates.


    She hurled her dart, inadvertently popping a balloon.


    Cal glanced at her. "You always in space like that?"


    Lucy kept her gaze on the clerk. "Just focused."


    As they wandered back toward the festival''s main square, the pace of the late afternoon had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Karen stretched, looking around with satisfaction.


    "Alright, I think I''m ready to wind down. Hans, movie?"


    Hans raised a brow. "A movie? Really? What''s playing?"


    Karen pointed toward a marquee sign near one of the event tents.


    "Catcha-Blanca."


    Hans read the description aloud, deadpan. "A caf¨¦ owner becomes entangled in a mystery while attempting to assist his ex-lover and her fianc¨¦ in escaping the Nazis." He paused, then muttered, "Huh. That actually sounds kinda good."


    Karen grinned, already grabbing his arm. "Then let''s go!"


    "I would rather not watch a movie," Lucy said, glancing again at all the people around the grounds.


    Karen sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Well then, I and Sir Hans shall go without you, dreadfully!"


    Hans looked at her. "We will?"


    Lucy raised a brow. "You''re seriously ditching us for a romantic crime drama?"


    Karen winked. "We''ll be so cultured when we get back!"


    Hans sighed but didn''t resist as Karen dragged him toward the tent. "This better not be three hours long..."


    Lucy watched them go, shaking her head fondly¡ªthen realized they left her alone with Cal. She turned to find him already looking at her, hands in his pockets, smirking slightly.


    "Guess that just leaves us," he said, entirely unbothered.


    Lucy narrowed her eyes. "You were hoping for this just now, weren''t you?"


    Cal shrugged. "Maybe."


    She crossed her arms, amused despite herself. "Did you and Karen have this planned?"


    He laughed, tilting his head toward the festival. "No. Let''s just call it an opportunity."


    The music from the bandstand drifted through the air, blending with the chatter of festival-goers. The afternoon still buzzed with life around them, but the atmosphere had shifted¡ªnow that it was just them.


    Lucy exhaled, watching him for a moment.


    "...Alright, Cal. Let''s see what you''ve got."


    His grin widened.


    "Oh, gladly!"

 Part VIII: All Fun and Games

    The chaotic noise and energy of the festival seemed distant from Meadowridge. Here, winding walking paths cut through trimmed grass and carefully planted flower beds. Wooden benches lined the paved walkways. The air smelled of fresh greenery and faint traces of cinnamon¡ªprobably from a nearby bakery.


    Lucy couldn''t ignore how peaceful it all was.


    People strolled casually, chatting, holding hands, enjoying the illusion of serenity. No one looked over their shoulder or seemed to think about the outside world.


    It''s all a bubble, she reminded herself, fighting the urge to stay permanently.


    "You look like you''re thinking too hard," Cal said, stepping beside her, holding a paper bag.


    Lucy glanced at him. "I do that a lot."


    He smirked. "I like that about you... Many here don''t think at all."


    He offered her the bag. She took it cautiously, peering inside¡ªa soft pretzel, still warm.


    She raised an eyebrow. "Bribery?"


    Cal shrugged. "Call it an offering. I bet they don''t make those in Brightvale, huh?"


    Lucy tore off a piece of the pretzel, watching as he casually strolled toward the fountain and sat on the stone ledge. "Nope. We mostly only eat eggs and pancakes." She followed, perching beside him but keeping just enough distance between them.


    "I take it you like Meadowridge? It''s lovely here," she said, breaking off another bite.


    "Can''t complain," Cal replied, leaning back on his hands. "It''s quiet. No one bothers you here."


    "And that''s a good thing?"


    He huffed a quiet laugh. "It depends on who you ask."


    She turned to look at him fully. "I''m asking you."


    Cal met her gaze, his smirk fading slightly¡ªnot in discomfort, just... consideration.


    "It''s easy," he admitted after a beat. "Life here, I mean. You just exist, y''know? No worrying about food, shelter, or whether something''s out there watching you while you sleep." He flicked a crumb from his thumb. "Out there, if you''re not careful, you start forgetting things. Forgetting what it was like before... you lose yourself after a while."


    Lucy caught the slight shift in his expression¡ªa flicker of something deeper.


    "Did that ever happen to you?" she asked.


    Cal''s lips quirked, but there was no humor in it. "Not exactly."


    Lucy watched him carefully. Unlike the others she had met in Northside, Cal didn''t pretend this place was perfect. He played along, but there was a difference. A gap between believing in something and just accepting it.


    She took another bite of her pretzel. "Good."


    Cal arched a brow. "Good?"


    Lucy smirked slightly. "Means I don''t have to waste time reminding you."


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    The diner had the kind of classic charm that looked ripped straight from a postcard¡ªcheckered floors, chrome stools, a glowing neon sign humming softly near the entrance. The scent of fresh coffee mingled with warm syrup and sizzling bacon, even though it was well past breakfast.


    Lucy slid into a red leather booth, Cal settling across from her.


    A waitress in her fifties, her hair neatly arranged in a tight bun and wearing an apron that seemed unchanged since 1940, approached with a polished, practiced smile.


    "What can I get ya, hon?"


    Lucy scanned the menu, but Cal was already ordering. "Chocolate shake, extra whipped cream."


    The waitress turned to Lucy expectantly.


    She hesitated before saying, "Same thing."


    Cal smirked. "See? Already making good choices."


    Lucy shot him a look. "I haven''t been so overwhelmed by options since..."


    "It''s okay, sweetheart. We have everything you need here," the waitress assured her before taking their menus and disappearing behind the counter.


    Lucy rested her elbows on the table, observing Cal intently. "So, Northside..."


    Cal tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "We just got here, and you''re already getting into the serious questions?"


    "I''m nosy."


    His smirk softened slightly¡ªnot fading, just less performative. "Alright. What do you want to know?"


    She gestured loosely. "Everything."


    He huffed a quiet laugh. "That might take a while."


    "I''m a patient person."


    Cal studied her briefly, then leaned back against the booth, draping one arm over the seat. "Alright. Let''s see... Northside 101." He tapped the table as if organizing his thoughts.


    Lucy listened closely as he talked.


    Life here wasn''t bad. Things were easy here, just like in Brightvale, as long as you followed the QA''s rules, kept your head down, and performed as expected. You could attend school, work, get married, and have kids. No war, no hunger. On the surface, it was perfect.


    The mention of school caught Lucy''s attention.


    Brightvale kids didn''t go to school anymore. It had been two years since she last set foot in a classroom.


    But then he mentioned something that made her pause.


    "Most of Northside is off-limits, though," he said, stirring his napkin absentmindedly.


    Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Off-limits?"


    Cal nodded. "Yeah. People don''t talk about it much, but there''re whole sections of the city that we''re just... not allowed to go to. Completely blacked out."


    Lucy tilted her head. "What do you mean by ''blacked out''?"


    Cal hesitated, then exhaled. "I mean dark. No streetlights, no people¡ªno movement to be found. Just empty, like it doesn''t exist." He glanced around the diner before leaning closer. "But every once in a while, you''ll see something."


    Lucy leaned forward, fully invested. "See what?"


    "A window, or building, lights up," he leans closer, "I think they''re doing something out there."


    A chill crept into her spine. She didn''t know why, but something about that made her stomach turn.


    She sat back, keeping her expression neutral as the waitress returned, sliding two tall metal cups in front of them. Chocolate milkshakes, extra whipped cream.


    Cal grabbed his spoon and dug in, watching Lucy over the rim of his cup.


    "What?" he asked, grinning.


    Lucy shook her head, stirring her shake absentmindedly. "Oh, nothing."


    "You look like you''re connecting dots in your head."


    She met his gaze, raising a brow. "Maybe I am."


    Cal grinned, licking whipped cream off his spoon. "You''re fun, you know that?"


    "So I''ve been told."


    His grin widened. "By whom?"


    Lucy took a sip of her shake, stalling. "People."


    Cal laughed. "Mysterious. I like it."


    Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn''t quite hide her smirk. She swirled her straw in her shake, gathering her thoughts before finally saying,


    "So. Tell me about West Hill¡ªdo you like it there?"


    Cal gave a half-shrug, his expression unreadable. "It''s fine. Better than where I came from."


    Lucy didn''t miss how he said it¡ªoffhand, dismissive, but careful. She set her cup down.


    "Where did you come from?"


    Cal hesitated for half a second longer than he should have. Then, exhaling through his nose, he leaned back.


    "Ohio."


    Lucy chuckled hard. "Oh? You''re far from home."


    "Yup."


    She looked him over before shaking her head. "That''s not what you meant though. Where were you from before Northside?"


    "No Man''s Land."


    Lucy''s grip tightened slightly around her straw. She should''ve expected that. He wasn''t like others in Northside, after all.


    "How long were you out there?"


    Cal let out a soft chuckle, but there wasn''t much humor in it. "A while. Long enough."


    Lucy didn''t break eye contact. "What was it like?"


    "C''mon, Sinclair; I''m not gonna ruin the evening by telling horror stories."


    Lucy narrowed her eyes. "That bad, huh?"


    Cal didn''t answer right away. Instead, he lifted his spoon, took another bite of whipped cream, and flashed her a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes.


    "Maybe I''ll tell you some other time," he said. "Like... if I visit Brightvale¡ªsee what it''s like." He arched a brow. "You''d have me, right?"


    Lucy huffed a quiet laugh. "I wouldn''t think that''d be possible."


    Cal raised a finger. "Ah, see, that''s what most people think!"


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Lucy''s amusement faded into curiosity. "Elaborate?"


    Cal leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make her listen harder.


    "It happens all the time," he said. "People don''t go around mentioning it, but privileged folks get to travel between Northside and Brightvale when they''ve got the right reason."


    Lucy frowned. "I see... And what would your ''right reason'' be?"


    Cal''s grin returned, slow and easy. "I''m sure I can think of something."


    Lucy scoffed, but the way he said it and the way he looked at her made her stomach do something annoying.


    "Right," she muttered, sipping her shake to cover it.


    Cal laughed under his breath. "Alright, alright, serious talk. You were asking about other places in Northside. Anything else you wanna know?"


    Lucy refocused, pushing away whatever that moment was.


    "Harmony Glen," she said, "what''s it like?"


    Cal tapped his spoon against his cup, considering her question. "Harmony Glen? It''s... exactly what you''d expect¡ªanother place where people go to pretend the world never changed."


    "How so?"


    "You name it, they''ve got it¡ªclubs, lounges, dance halls, a casino-style parlor. If you''ve ever wondered what adults did for fun before, that''s where you''ll find it."


    Lucy took a sip of her shake, letting that sink in. "Is everything in compliance with the rules?"


    "Not entirely."


    That piqued her interest. "What do you mean?"


    "There''s a little smuggling, some minor organized crime," he admitted casually. "It''s not exactly run by major criminals or anything, but if you know the right people, you can get your hands on stuff."


    Lucy set her cup down. "Stuff?"


    Cal chuckled. "Relax, Sinclair. I''m talking contraband luxuries¡ªcigarettes, real coffee, records. Maybe some alcohol if you know the right guy. Maybe some drugs, but I wouldn''t know."


    "What''s the worst thing that''s happened there?"


    Cal hesitated just long enough for her to catch it.


    "Couple of months ago, a guy got stabbed in an alley," he said, finally. "Don''t think anyone ever found out who did it."


    Lucy watched his eyes. "So they say."


    Cal''s grin widened, amused. "So they say."


    As they both took a sip of their shakes simultaneously, Cal continued smirking to himself. Lucy let the silence linger for a beat before setting her cup down and meeting his gaze again.


    "Speaking of which¡ªtell me about the prison."


    Cal''s relaxed demeanor shifted the second Lucy mentioned the prison.


    It was subtle¡ªhow his shoulders tensed a bit, the way he stirred his shake without drinking from it. She noticed.


    She rested her arms on the table. "So? What''s the deal with it?"


    Cal didn''t answer right away. He took his time before finally saying, "I don''t know much." He met her gaze, his voice more serious than before. "But I know enough to stay the hell away from it."


    "Why would Northside need such a prison at all? I mean, this place is perfect, isn''t it?"


    Cal huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.


    "Look, Lucy," he said, his voice low. "I wouldn''t know. And I definitely wouldn''t go around asking."


    Lucy studied him before shifting her thoughts elsewhere, letting it go.


    "Fine," she said. "Let''s talk about something else."


    "Oh? What now?"


    "You won''t tell me what it was like out there," Lucy said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "So tell me the craziest thing you''ve heard."


    Cal''s smirk twitched back into place, but, this time, it was different. "Have you ever heard of the Dead Woods?"


    Lucy''s expression didn''t change, but she filed the name away immediately.


    "No," she said. "Should I have?"


    Cal shrugged. "Depends on how much you like ghost stories."


    Lucy arched a brow. "Ghost stories?"


    Cal nodded, swirling his shake absently. "It''s past the QA border, somewhere out in West Virginia. No one who goes in ever returns, except for one guy."


    Lucy let him talk.


    "My dad and I met him on the road once," Cal said. "Said he escaped from the woods. He looked bad¡ªthin, paranoid, barely sane. And the way he talked..." Cal shook his head. "I''ve seen a lot of messed-up people since this started, but this guy? He wasn''t just scared. He was convinced that the place was haunted."


    Lucy, despite herself, felt a chill creep up her spine. "Haunted? What did he see?"


    "He didn''t see anything. But he heard them."


    Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Heard who?"


    "The dead."


    Cal''s voice was casual like he was talking about the weather. However, Lucy caught a glimpse of the slight bob in his throat after he finished speaking.


    "He said he heard cries in the night," Cal continued, his tone quieter now. "Women. Children. Men shouting orders while dying. Over and over, like it was all still happening."


    Lucy let that settle before her expression shifted to one of skepticism. "That sounds made up."


    Cal smiled, gesturing dismissively. "Yeah, probably."


    "You were right."


    Cal blinked. "About?"


    "No Man''s Land," she muttered. "Real bummer."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª?¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The night had stretched longer than Lucy expected, but she wasn''t complaining.


    Between the music, the festival games, and the strange but effortless way Cal kept the conversation going, the hours had disappeared faster than she realized. Eventually, the crowds started thinning, the glow of the festival softening in the distance as vendors packed up their stalls and families herded sleepy children home.


    Cal, leaning casually against a streetlamp, tossed his car keys into the air and caught them with an effortless grin. "You ready to call it a night?"


    Lucy exhaled, stretching her arms. "Yeah, probably should. I''m sure the QA will have us up nice and early tomorrow."


    "Alright," he said, nodding toward the parking lot. "Let''s go."


    She trailed behind him as he approached a dark-skinned 1947 Super Deluxe coupe, a car that exuded speed even while idling.


    Lucy raised a brow. "Nice ride."


    "Thanks."


    Lucy looked at him fully, a large smile forming.


    "I think you''re fun too, by the way."


    Cal mirrored her expression, opening the passenger door for her. "I try."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª?¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    As they reached Trevor''s house, the festival''s lights faded into the horizon, leaving the night with a sense of tranquility. Lucy exited the car, expecting to see Karen and Hans waiting on the porch.


    They weren''t there.


    She checked her watch: 10:27.


    It was late, she thought to herself.


    "Relax," Cal said, closing his door. "They probably just lost track of time. It happened to me all the time when I first got here."


    Lucy wasn''t convinced, but she headed inside the house. The soft click-clack of a typewriter greeted them, followed by Trevor''s voice.


    "Ah," he said, not looking up from his desk. "Miss Sinclair. Mr. Brooks. A pleasure as always."


    Lucy ignored the greeting. "Karen and Hans aren''t back yet?"


    Trevor didn''t pause his typing. "No."


    Lucy glanced at the clock on the wall, arms crossed. "It''s late."


    Trevor finally looked up, adjusting his glasses. "Miss Sinclair, there is a statistical likelihood of 99.8% that your companions are merely continuing to enjoy themselves and will return unscathed."


    Lucy huffed, not convinced. "And the 0.2%?"


    "Marginal risk."


    Cal chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall. "You sure do know how to comfort a lady, Trev."


    Lucy, despite herself, felt some of the tension ease. And sure enough, not twenty minutes later, the front door swung open.


    Totally unfazed, Karen and Hans walked in, bickering about a movie''s plot before they noticed Lucy was staring at them. Karen groaned, stretching her arms.


    "Okay, okay, before you freak out, we were watching a very long movie!"


    Hans sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It wasn''t even that long."


    Karen pointed at him. "You shushed me."


    Hans muttered, "Yeah, because you wouldn''t stop whispering your own plot theories out loud."


    Karen huffed dramatically. "I was right about the twist, wasn''t I?"


    Hans waved her off. "Not the point."


    Lucy exhaled, finally letting herself relax. "You guys could''ve at least sent word."


    Karen flopped onto the couch. "Oh, I''m sorry; next time we''ll send a carrier pigeon."


    Trevor adjusted his glasses. "That would be inefficient. A simple telephone call would have sufficed."


    "You know what, Trev? You got me there."


    With Hans and Karen safely back, the group unwound in the living room, the conversation turning light and casual.


    Eventually, Cal pushed himself up from the chair. "Alright, I should get going."


    Lucy followed him toward the door. Before he stepped outside, he turned back, his expression more serious now.


    "Listen," he said quietly. "Don''t trust the QA."


    Lucy stilled, watching him. "Huh? You think I do?"


    "No," Cal admitted. "But whatever you''re doing here, you''re taking a risk. They''ll always be one step ahead, so you should try to do the same."


    Lucy studied him, weighing his words. Then, she nodded. "Thanks for the advice."


    Cal gave her one last smile, stepping back toward his car. "Goodnight, ''Miss Sinclair,'' I had a pleasant evening with you."


    With that, he slipped into the driver''s seat, the engine''s rumble breaking the night''s silence. As he drove off, Lucy stood on the porch for a moment longer, staring into the dark.


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    The sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the early morning quiet, followed immediately by loud, insistent banging on the door.


    Lucy barely had time to sit up before she heard Karen''s groggy voice from down the hall.


    "What the hell is wrong with you people?"


    A deep chuckle followed. Subsequently, the sound of boots stepping inside was heard.


    "Rise and shine, kiddos!" a voice called, far too cheerful for the hour. "Grab your belongings; it''s time to go."


    Lucy swung her legs over the side of the bed, rubbing her face before standing. Hans shuffled out of the room behind her, hair sticking up on one side, looking like he''d lost a fight with sleep. By the time they entered the main room, Karen was standing off to the side, arms crossed, still squinting from being half-awake, while a QA soldier¡ªbroad-shouldered, smug¡ªstood near the door, clearly enjoying himself.


    "Why are you like this?" Karen muttered.


    The soldier grinned wider. "Just doing my job."


    They gathered their things slowly, zombie-like. Hans muttered that he needed three more hours of sleep, while Karen took her sweet time tying her shoes, glaring at the soldier with each loop.


    As Lucy zipped her bag, Trevor stepped beside her, holding something.


    "Miss Sinclair," he said, extending the item toward her. "Do not forget your... questionable reading material."


    Lucy blinked in confusion, then took it: a men''s underwear magazine.


    Or, at least, that''s what it looked like at first glance. But as soon as she took it, she felt the familiar shape of the French notebook tucked inside, about twice as thick as before.


    She glanced up at him, half impressed, half amused.


    He lowered his voice slightly. "I will be honest. I had a look myself, and it is fascinating indeed. Very interesting. I may need to acquire some of the said undergarments myself."


    Lucy smiled, tucking the magazine into her bag.


    From the doorway, the soldier snorted. "Weird kids."


    She turned, giving Trevor a dramatic bow. "Thank you, Mr. Trevor. It''s been quite the pleasure."


    Trevor nodded. "As expected."


    With that, the trio stepped outside and was escorted back toward the waiting QA vehicle.


    Northside was behind them now. Home was next.


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    The ride back to Brightvale was quiet¡ªuncomfortably so, making Lucy''s mind race.


    She thought about Cal and the time they had spent together. And more than anything, she replayed his parting words.


    Don''t trust the QA.


    They''re always one step ahead.


    She leaned forward slightly, catching the eye of the soldier driving.


    "Hey," she said casually. "Can we make a quick stop?"


    The soldier didn''t even glance at her. "No."


    Lucy huffed. "Come on, it''s just for a second."


    "Orders are to take you straight back," he said, adjusting his grip on the wheel.


    Lucy pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please? I left something very important in my car when it broke down."


    The soldier exhaled sharply. "I don''t care."


    Lucy thought fast. "I¡ªI think I have some money in there too."


    That got his attention.


    His eyes flicked to her. "How much?"


    Lucy hesitated, then shrugged. "Fifteen? Twenty dollars?"


    The soldier gave her a look, scanning her like he was trying to decide if she was lying.


    "You better not be wasting my time, kid."


    Lucy forced a bright, innocent smile. "I''m not! I promise! It''s so very important. You''ll see."


    A long pause.


    Finally, with an annoyed sigh, "Fine."


    A few miles later, there it was. Her beautiful Studebaker¡ªher baby¡ªwas still sitting exactly where she''d left it. Untouched, undisturbed.


    The jeep rolled to a stop, and the soldier muttered, "Make it quick."


    Lucy jumped out, striding toward her car with just enough urgency to make it look real.


    She yanked the driver''s side handle¡ªthen, fumbled her bag, spilling everything onto the car floor.


    The soldier groaned. "Seriously, girl?"


    Lucy grinned sheepishly. "Whoopsie!"


    She climbed inside, closing the door just enough to obscure his vision.


    Keeping her movements deliberate, she rifled through the dashboard like she was searching for something. Then, she leaned down, grabbed her pocketknife, and sliced open the fabric under the passenger seat.


    The notebook slid in easily.


    She pressed the cut fabric back together, gathered her stuff, and stuffed it all back in her bag¡ªexcept for the fuzzy dice Cal had gotten her. She flipped open the glovebox and rummaged through an old envelope, pulling out twenty-five dollars.


    Climbing back into the jeep, she handed the cash over. The soldier counted it quickly¡ªthen stopped.


    His gaze drifted to the fuzzy dice in her other hand.


    "...You''re kidding, right?"


    Lucy smiled, holding them up. "Nope! They''re for you! Thank you for being such a good guy and protecting us in this scary, dangerous world," she said, her tone just sincere enough to hide the mockery.


    Before he could protest, she looped the dice over the rearview mirror, giving it a dramatic spin.


    "It''s so much prettier now," she said cheerfully.


    In the backseat, Karen and Hans were losing it.


    The soldier sighed, staring at it with dead eyes. "Whatever¡ªit''s your money, kid."


    Lucy grinned to herself.


    The notebook was hidden, and her car would be delivered straight to her driveway.


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    The moment the jeep rolled past Brightvale''s gates, the tension was overwhelming.


    Lined up in perfect formation, Holly and a squad of QA soldiers stood waiting.


    She held up a hand, stopping the vehicle. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she motioned her squad to move in.


    Lucy''s pulse kicked up. "What''s going on here?"


    From behind her, Karen exhaled sharply. "Theatrics as usual."


    Hans shifted uneasily. "This isn''t good."


    However; the QA soldier driving them? He laughed.


    The squad moved in and the doors were yanked open before anyone could react. Rough hands grabbed them, ripping them out of the jeep, and onto the concrete.


    No warnings. No explanations.


    Just force.


    Lucy twisted against the grip on her arm. "What the hell is this about?"


    Holly, expression unreadable, didn''t even hesitate.


    "Arrest them."


    The words hit like a gunshot.


    "What?!" Karen snapped, struggling against the soldier restraining her.


    Hans wasn''t much better. "We didn''t do anything!"


    Lucy fought hard, "On what grounds?!" but she knew. It was useless.


    Cold metal snapped around their wrists.


    Holly, calm as ever, stepped closer, watching Lucy with something that wasn''t quite a smirk but close. "Welcome back, kiddo," she murmured.


    "You didn''t think it''d be that easy, did you?"


    Lucy glared but didn''t answer right away. Then, with cold eyes, she spoke clearly.


    "Screw you, Holly."


    Holly laughed loudly, motioning toward the waiting military transport vehicle.


    The cold slam of the transport door echoed like a gavel in a courtroom. Lucy sat rigid, hands bound, pulse hammering¡ªturning over every move that had led to this moment in her mind. Holly lingered just outside, watching through the reinforced glass.


    The engine growled to life.


    As the truck lurched forward, one thing became crystal clear: Brightvale was not welcoming them home the way Lucy had anticipated.