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—the 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—the 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—"

  Karen started patting her pockets. "Wait... wait, where did I—? Oh, no—oh, geez—"

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

  Karen gasped, eyes wide. "I don't—I swear I just had it—"

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

  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—twisted 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—like 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—cars, 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—

  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—a 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!"

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  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—helmets, 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—" 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—"

  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—and 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—how 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—That's—" 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—"

  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—a 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—who 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—he 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—maybe 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—That'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—

  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—anything.

  Lucy, after what felt like forever, finally spoke.

  "...Is this part of the game?"

  Then—

  Lyle snorted.

  Then chuckled.

  Then he laughed—loud, 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—he just—"

  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—I 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—like 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—they'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—for 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—dangerous. 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—serious.

  "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—loud and hysterical—like 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.