The sky was streaked with orange and deep purple by the time Kenny turned onto his street.
The curfew bell hadn't rung yet, but the air already felt heavy. That anxious hush the town always got right before nightfall.
He parked the truck outside his house and stepped onto the porch, wiping the sawdust off his hands. The door creaked open before he could reach for the handle.
His mother stood there with her arms crossed, smiling faintly. "You're late."
Kenny smiled sheepishly. "Got roped into chopping logs again. Boyd's turning me into a lumberjack."
She rolled her eyes but waved him inside. The smell of dinner hit him immediately. A mix of garlic, soy, and the faint sweetness of honey. His favorite.
"Sit," she said. "Eat before it gets cold."
Kenny didn't argue. He sank into his usual chair as she placed a steaming bowl of rice and braised pork in front of him.
"Thanks, Mom," he said, grabbing his chopsticks.
She sat across from him, watching as he took his first bite. "You work too hard," she said softly.
Kenny grinned between mouthfuls. "If I stop working, I start thinking. You don't want that."
She gave him a look... the kind that said 'I do worry, more than you know.'
For a few minutes, neither spoke. The quiet was comfortable, broken only by the sound of chopsticks against bowls and the faint hum of the wind outside.
Then, his mother said gently, "I heard Kristi's been at the infirmary a lot recently."
Kenny froze mid-bite. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "She's… busy."
His mother smiled knowingly. "You should bring her dinner sometime. She works too hard too."
Kenny rolled his eyes. "Mom."
She laughed, standing to clear his empty bowl. "Just saying."
Kenny leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face despite himself. The warmth of the food and the house dulled the day's exhaustion.
For a moment, the horrors outside didn't exist.
But then... faintly, through the window, he heard the curfew bell begin to toll.
The smile faded from his face.
"Time to lock up," he said quietly.
His mother nodded, already moving toward the window to draw the curtains.
Outside, the last light of day slipped beneath the horizon.
...
Boyd just stopped ringing the curfew bell, and the noise had just faded into silence.
Boyd stepped through the door of the station. The lights hummed faintly, casting long shadows across the floor.
Inside, Jade stood in front of the big corkboard wall, the town's hand-drawn map tacked up beside scattered sheets of paper, twine, and pins.
He was muttering to himself, tapping a marker against his temple.
Boyd stopped at the doorway, exhaling. "Let me guess? Kenny told you about the map of new arrivals."
Jade didn't look up. "You got a list of every arrival date and route, right? There's a pattern here. There has to be."
Boyd rubbed his forehead. "We've gone over it a thousand times. Roads, times of day, car types... it's all random. Believe me, we've obsessed over this since Kristi suggested the idea."
Jade finally turned, eyes wide, jaw tight. "There's no such thing as random. People don't just end up in a pocket dimension because they took a wrong turn."
Boyd's tone flattened. "That's exactly what happens here."
Jade shook his head, stepping closer to the board. "No... No, no, no. I built a multimillion-dollar tech company from nothing, Sheriff. I can see patterns where other people can't. This..." he tapped the map, "... this is just data waiting to be decoded."
Boyd stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. "You're not the first genius to say that."
Jade smirked. "Yeah, but I'm the first one who is right."
Boyd rolled his eyes and started toward his office. "Good luck with that, Einstein. Just don't start scribbling on the walls."
Jade ignored him completely, pacing in front of the map. His voice dropped to a low murmur, words tumbling over each other.
"Vegas… LA… Tampa… they all turned off at different exits, but what if… what if the roads are the same? No, no, that's stupid. Unless... what if the tree moves? Somewhere beyond this forest. What if the roads move? Shifting along lay lines."
Boyd paused at his office door, glancing back once. Jade was still talking to himself, drawing lines between pins with a red string, his movements quick and uneven.
Boyd muttered under his breath, "We got ourselves another Victor."
Then he shut the door behind him, leaving Jade in the flickering light. Alone with the map, his theories, and the sound of his own unraveling thoughts.
...
The sky outside had turned a deep navy, the last streaks of light fading behind the hills.
Inside the infirmary, the air was still. Clean and clinical, with the faint smell of alcohol and herbs.
Kristi moved methodically from room to room, double-checking each latch and window.
The metal locks clicked shut under her fingers. "That's the last one in the west wing," she called softly.
From the hallway, Gina appeared with a clipboard tucked under her arm. "Front doors are secure too. Boyd would lose it if we left anything open."
Kristi offered a tired smile. "Yeah, well, he'd have a right to. Don't want any late-night visitors."
Gina snorted quietly, shaking her head. "You can say that again."
The two women walked the narrow corridor together, their footsteps echoing faintly on the old linoleum. Every creak of the building seemed louder than it should've been.
At the end of the hall, Gina paused. "I'll go help Bing Qian get settled. He said he wanted to watch a bit of that movie he likes before bed."
Kristi nodded, glancing toward the door of the elder man's room. "He's been good today. If he starts talking in his sleep again, just make sure he stays covered. He gets cold easily."
"Got it," Gina said, smiling. "You heading out soon?"
Kristi shrugged, locking the supply closet. "Maybe. Might sleep here tonight, just in case someone needs me in the morning."
Gina rolled her eyes. "You say that every night."
Kristi smirked faintly. "And every night I end up right."
They shared a brief, quiet laugh. The kind that only existed in these rare, peaceful moments between the chaos of living in this town.
Then Gina turned and disappeared into Bing Qian's room, the soft sound of her voice carrying down the hall.
Kristi took one last look around at the dim lights, the empty stretch of corridor, the quiet hum of the generator outside and sighed.
For a moment, she let herself believe that tonight would be quiet.
She clicked off the hallway light, the infirmary falling into gentle darkness.
...
Night had folded over the town in a soft, dark blanket. Inside the diner, the lights were low and everything smelled of coffee and sugar.
Monte and Sara lay fully nude, side by side on a spread-out blanket behind the counter.
Sweat dripping down their frames, they were pressed close and breathing the same slow rhythm. It was a small island of calm in a town that rarely allowed it.
"Think I'll grab a drink," Monte murmured, pushing himself up.
Sara blinked awake and smiled, shifting to let him go. "Alright. Be quick."
He ducked into the small prep area and reached for a glass of water.
As he poured, the corner of his eye caught motion out on the street. It was something streaking past at a speed that didn't fit the slow pace of the town's creatures.
He set the glass down half-full. "Sara… I just saw something run."
She sat up, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "What? Those things don't run."
"Not the ones we know," Monte said, already moving. He tugged on his pants with one hand and grabbed his Glock with the other. "I'm gonna go poke the bear."
Sara stood, panic cracking through her voice. "No, you can't! You'll get yourself killed!"
Monte smiled, more fierce than comforting. "I'll be back." He kissed her quickly, then opened the door and shut it firmly behind him.
He vanished down the street in a single, fluid motion.
Sara lunged for him but he was already gone. The thunder of his steps faded down the road.
She held the blanket tighter and watched the doorway, heart pounding.
She pushed open the door to follow after him, but a second later, the door frame flickered with movement.
Jasmine was there in the doorway, her pale face split by that impossible, patient smile.
"I've been watchingyou two go at it. I've gotta say, that was some performace. You should have just killed him, Sara," the creature said, voice like silk.
Sara's breath hitched. She moved before she thought, bolts of reflex and survival.
She darted away from the creature toward the back door but the Bookworm creature had already stepped inside, blocking the exit.
Instinct took over.
Sara slipped into the kitchen, ducked through the staff door, and climbed out through the small bathroom window.
The cold night air bit her face, her body shivering as she ran.
She was headed just over to Miranda's house, where Ethan and Meghan slept. Where she knew there would be someone to let her in.
Behind her the creature at the door laughed. It was a low, human sound that felt wrong in the dark and Sally's eyes turned toward the street.
"Let's make sure the one who doesn't belong perishes," she whispered.
The Bookworm's face flickered and for a heartbeat, a monstrous rictus of teeth and shadow appeared.
Then, it smoothed back into that slow, smiling mask. Then both of them pivoted, as one, toward the direction of the infirmary.
...
The silence was sudden and heavy. Only the hum of the medical fridge broke it.
Then...
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Kristi jumped. The pounding came from the front door. She wiped her hands on her coat and hurried over, heart hammering in her chest.
Through the small glass pane, she saw Kevin, wild-eyed and breathless.
"Please! Let me in!" he shouted.
Kristi unlocked the door and yanked it open. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Kevin pushed past her, stammering, "They're... they're out there!"
She started to swing the door shut but...
A pale hand slid through the gap. Fingers thin and bone-white, pressing against the wood.
Kristi froze. "Oh no."
She tried to slam it shut, putting her entire hundred and thirty pounds of weight into it, but it wouldn't move.
The hand didn't strain or struggle. It just held.
Kristi backed away slowly as the door creaked open again.
An old woman stepped through. Her dress was faded and her smile too wide.
"Evening, dear," the creature said softly. Her eyes glittered like wet glass.
"You should run."
The corners of her mouth split wider, skin stretching, teeth sharpening. The old lady's face unraveling into something inhuman.
Kristi stumbled back, her breath catching. Then instinct took over.
"Gina! Uncle Qian!" she screamed, sprinting down the hall.
The old woman's laughter echoed after her. That calm, conversational tone still there beneath the horror.
Kristi turned a corner, slipping on the linoleum, and threw open the door to Bing Qian's room.
Her scream caught in her throat.
Blood covered the floor. Gina and Bing Qian lay torn open, their faces unrecognizable.
One of the creatures, the Cowboy, crouched over them, feeding. Its jaw working slowly, deliberately, like someone savoring a meal.
The old woman's voice came again from the hall, closer now. "Run along, little mouse," she crooned. "We still want to play."
Tears streaked Kristi's face as she turned and bolted through the back corridor. Her shoes slapped against the floor.
Behind her, the doorframe splintered. Laughter followed.
She didn't stop running. Not even when her lungs burned, not even when she hit the cold night air outside.
The infirmary door banged open behind her.
And the laughter spilled into the night.
...
The door slammed shut behind Sara, her breathing was ragged.
She pressed her back to it for a second, then dropped to her knees and pulled Ethan into a fierce hug.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice trembling. "Thank you for opening the door."
Ethan hugged her tighter, confused but glad she was safe.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs... Jim, Tabitha, and Miranda, all half-panicked.
"Sara?" Tabitha called out. "What happened..."
She stopped short when she saw Sara on the floor, clutching Ethan, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and tears streaming down her face.
Tabitha rushed forward. "Sara, are you okay? What happened?"
Sara took a shaky breath. "Monte… he saw something running down the road. Said he was going to check it out. I-I tried to chase after him, but one of those things..."
Her voice broke. She pulled Ethan closer, burrying her face against his shoulder, sobbing.
Tabitha knelt, wrapping both of them in her arms. "It's okay. You're safe now."
Jim stood stiffly by the stairs, his expression dark. "Monte left the door open? How could he be that reckless?"
Sara shook her head, gasping through tears. "No... he shut it when he left. I-I opened it. I didn't check for..."
Her voice cracked again, and she broke down fully.
Tabitha pulled her closer, shushing her gently. "It's okay. You're here now. That's what matters."
Sara shook her head hard, pulling free. "He's out there, Tabitha. We have to do something."
Jim's voice was flat. "We can't."
The words hit like a hammer. Sara's knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, crying into her hands.
Ethan stood beside her, wrapping his little arms around her neck. His lip trembled. "Monte's my friend," he said softly.
The room fell into silence, the kind that hurt to sit in.
Then Miranda spoke, her voice steady but heavy. "I was there the night he got here."
Everyone turned toward her.
She continued, "If I had to bet on anyone surviving out there, Monte would be at the top of the list. Right beside the Sheriff and Kenny."
Her words lingered in the air, a small, fragile hope in the middle of the fear.
Sara wiped her tears, nodding slowly. Ethan sniffled but smiled faintly, holding onto that thought.
Outside, the wind brushed against the house, the faint sound of laughter drifting through the night.
It was distant, but too close for comfort.