Kenny stood just inside the room, arms crossed, watching as Kristi leaned over the cot where Jade lay unconscious.
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the floor and over his still face.
Kristi's movements were calm and practiced. She clicked on a flashlight, lifted one of Jade's eyelids, and swept the beam across his pupil. Then the other.
"Pupils look good," she murmured.
She checked his pulse, her fingers pressed lightly against his wrist, then ran a careful hand along his arms and ribs, feeling for fractures.
After a moment, she looked up at Kenny and gave a small nod. "He's fine. No major trauma. He probably just needs rest. Should wake up sometime today."
Kenny let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Alright. I'll let Boyd know when he gets back."
He glanced toward the window, where faint sunlight was spilling across the sill. "I'm gonna go check on my dad."
Kristi smiled softly. "Say hi for me."
Kenny grinned as he started for the door. "You know he likes you a lot, right?"
Kristi's smile widened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I know."
Kenny chuckled under his breath as he stepped out, the door closing gently behind him.
Kristi lingered for a moment, looking down at Jade's face. For a man who'd come crashing into this nightmare world, he looked almost peaceful now.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," she whispered, straightening up. Then she turned back to her desk, the sound of a puzzle piece clicking into place filling the small, quiet room.
...
By the time the morning mist began to lift, Boyd had led the Matthews family through most of the town.
The sun filtered weakly through the haze, touching the rooftops with a pale gold that did nothing to make the place feel less trapped.
He'd shown them the main street, the diner, Kristi's infirmary, the workshop, the barn, the diner, the bar and now they were looping back toward the outer road. Jim looked exhausted, Tabitha quiet, and Julie... well, Julie was watching everything, sharp-eyed and restless.
Boyd stopped outside a tidy white house with flower boxes in the windows. The front door opened before he even knocked.
"Morning," Miranda said warmly, wiping her hands on her apron.
She looked to be in her late thirties, her expression kind but weary in a way that came from living too long in a place that never changed.
Boyd smiled faintly. "Miranda, these are the Matthews. New arrivals. Thought I'd introduce you."
Miranda nodded, her eyes softening. "Welcome. I'm sorry it had to be here."
Behind her, a little girl peeked out shyly. A freckled face, with blonde hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She was clutching a stuffed rabbit that looked older than she was.
"This is my daughter, Meghan," Miranda said. "Say hello, sweetheart."
Meghan waved shyly.
Ethan lit up instantly, stepping forward with the kind of fearless enthusiasm only kids have. "Hi! I'm Ethan!"
Meghan smiled shyly. "Hi... Wanna see my drawings?"
Ethan nodded eagerly. He looked up at his mom. "Can I stay here for a bit? Please?"
Tabitha hesitated, looking to Boyd.
Boyd nodded. "It's fine. Miranda can keep an eye on them."
Miranda placed a gentle hand on Ethan's shoulder. "He's safe here. They can play for a while."
Tabitha relented. "Okay."
She turned to Ethan, "Listen to Miranda, alright?"
Ethan grinned. "Promise!"
He followed Meghan inside, the door closing softly behind them. For the first time since arriving, Tabitha actually looked a little lighter.
Boyd watched the exchange quietly. "Kids do better when they forget to be scared," he said.
Jim's jaw tightened, but he nodded.
Boyd led them up the dirt road that wound toward Colony House. The trees on either side seemed to lean closer here, shadows pooling between their trunks even under the daylight.
Halfway up, they saw Monte coming down the path, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He was moving with that lazy, unhurried stride that somehow made everyone else seem frantic.
Boyd raised a hand. "Monte."
Monte stopped, giving a nod. "Sheriff."
"You talk to Donna?" Boyd asked.
Monte nodded. "Yeah. She's in the greenhouse. Said she'll come down once she's done."
Boyd rubbed the back of his neck. "Good. Appreciate it."
Monte started to pass, but Boyd called after him, "Where you headed?"
Monte shrugged. "Figured I'd check that guy's Audi from the crash. Might be something worth salvaging."
Boyd frowned. "Be careful."
Monte smirked. "Aren't I always?"
He gave a casual thumbs-up and kept walking. Julie turned slightly, watching him over her shoulder until he disappeared around the bend.
Jim noticed, his jaw clenching.
The hill leveled out at a broad clearing overlooking the town. The structure that dominated it looked half like a house, half like a commune.
It had a wide porch, windows thrown open, clotheslines strung across the yard. Music drifted faintly from inside, the kind of old tune that might've played from a record player decades ago.
"This is Colony House," Boyd said.
The Matthews family took it in silently. Tabitha frowned at the mess of paint and mismatched furniture. Jim looked unimpressed. Julie's eyes, though, were curious.
Boyd's steps slowed when he saw a familiar figure standing by the railing. Ellis.
Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, neither spoke.
"Ellis," Boyd said finally.
"Dad."
The word was heavy, spat out with no tenderness.
Before the silence could turn sharp, Julie stepped in. "So, what is this place, exactly?"
Ellis blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Welcome to Colony House," he said, stepping down from the porch. "This is where some of us live. It's more… freeform than town. No curfews, no assigned chores. You contribute, you stay. It's different, but it works for us."
He motioned for them to follow. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Boyd let them go ahead, hanging back a few paces. His gaze lingered on Ellis for a long moment before he turned and walked down the side path toward the greenhouse.
The air inside the greenhouse was warm and humid, filled with the smell of soil, herbs, and life. Donna stood with her sleeves rolled up, tending to a row of tomato plants.
"Morning," Boyd said.
Donna didn't look up. "Morning. Heard about that deer from Monte. "
Boyd nodded. "Yeah. Said you'd take care of the deer when you're done here."
"I will," she said simply, trimming a leaf.
He leaned against the doorway. "The new family's up here now. I'll be holding the Choosing Ceremony soon. I'll need you there."
Donna finally looked up, wiping her hands on a rag. "You think they'll stay in town or up here?"
Boyd sighed. "Hard to say. The dad's stubborn, the mom's scared, and the daughter... She's got that look in her eyes. Same as Ellis used to."
Donna studied him for a moment, then nodded. "We'll be ready."
Boyd started to turn away, but Donna's voice stopped him.
"Boyd?"
He looked back.
"Be careful with them," she said softly. "They're still holding onto the idea they'll leave. That kind of hope… it's fragile."
Boyd nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I know." His face thoughtful, remembering something...
He left the greenhouse, the door creaking shut behind him as the sun climbed higher over the strange, unending sky.
...
When Monte rolled back into town, the place looked deceptively peaceful.
Sunlight glinted off the windows, and somewhere a radio played faintly through an open door. Monte raised an eyebrow, wondering who it was.
Down the street, he spotted Ethan pushing Meghan on a rusty old swing set beside Miranda's porch.
Both kids were laughing, the kind of laughter that didn't belong in a place like this... free, bright, and unafraid.
Miranda stood nearby, arms crossed, watching them with a soft, melancholy smile that never reached her eyes.
Monte lifted a hand in greeting. "Morning."
Miranda waved back, but her gaze drifted back to the children. Monte lingered for a second, then turned away.
The laughter followed him down the road until the sound faded into the hush of the empty main street.
...
Monte climbed into the blue pickup parked in front of the Sheriff's Station. The keys were still in the ignition from the day before.
He tossed the hooligan onto the passenger seat, just in case the trunk needed some extra persuassuon.
The truck rumbled to life, a rough idle but steady. Monte shifted gears quickly and pulled out, tires crunching over gravel as he drove past the town's last few buildings.
It didn't take long to reach the crash site. The Audi was still there, crumpled around a thick oak tree like a toy someone had twisted in half.
He parked on the shoulder, grabbed the hooligan, and slid down the ditch. The air smelled faintly of oil and burned rubber.
Monte circled the vehicle, eyeing the damage. "Damn thing didn't stand a chance," he muttered.
He tried the trunk release... nothing. The button clicked uselessly.
"Battery's dead," he said to himself. "Can't say I'm surprised."
Monte wedged the hooligan under the edge of the hatch and pried. The metal groaned, then snapped. The shocks hissed as the trunk lifted open, a puff of stale air escaping.
Inside, there wasn't much. A few suitcases, a folded jacket, and a tangle of roadside debris that had spilled in during the crash.
Monte grabbed the jacket first, shaking off dust and glass before tossing it over his shoulder. Then he hauled the suitcases out, climbing the incline with practiced ease.
He threw everything into the truck bed, then slid back down to check the rest of the SUV.
The glove box was empty except for a rental agreement, and the center console held nothing but a melted pack of gum and a few receipts.
Monte frowned. "Rental car. Figures."
He stepped back, scanning the ground around the wreck. Tire tracks and marks from the crash and fresh footprints.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but Monte's gut told him something was watching him.
The woods were quiet, not a single sound. No birds, no insects. Just silence.
He waited a few seconds longer, listening. Still nothing.
With a small shake of his head, he muttered, "Trust your gut, Monte. It time to leave."
Monte climbed back into the pickup truck and drove off.
...
The drive back felt longer. The sky had gone slightly overcast, clouds gathering like bruises on the horizon.
Monte pulled up in front of the Sheriff's Station, shut off the engine, and hefted the suitcases inside. The sound of the door closing echoed in the quiet building.
He set the bags down by the desk, dusting off his hands. "Souvenirs," he said to no one in particular.
Then he looked toward the back window, where sunlight was fading into a dull gray. The unease he'd felt by the Audi lingered at the edge of his mind.
"Something's off," he muttered.
...
The door to the Sheriff's Station creaked open as Boyd stepped inside, brushing the dirt from his sleeves.
The long walk up and down the hill had done little for his mood or his legs. He was about to call for Monte when he heard movement toward the back.
Rummaging sounds. A zipper. Then some muffled curses.
Boyd followed the noise into the next room and stopped in the doorway.
Monte was crouched over one of the suitcases he'd hauled in earlier, clothes strewn across the floor.
He held up a plain gray button-up, inspected it, then tossed it onto a growing pile beside him.
"Find something that fits?" Boyd asked dryly.
Monte glanced up, a crooked smirk crossing his face. "Trying. Figured I'd do some light shopping while the store's open."
Boyd folded his arms, watching as Monte pulled out a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. "You know those aren't yours, right?"
Monte shrugged. "They weren't using 'em. And unless this place has a mall I haven't seen, I'm fresh outta options."
He stripped off his blood-stained flannel and tugged the T-shirt over his head. "When I peeled off in the Mustang after Fat Tony's boys started spraying lead, I didn't exactly have time to pack a bag."
Boyd raised an eyebrow. "Fat Tony?"
Monte smirked. "Long story. Let's just say he's not gonna miss me."
Boyd sighed but didn't press. He'd learned quickly that prying into Monte's past was like digging through concrete with a spoon.
"Help yourself," Boyd said finally. "Just try not to make too much of a mess."
Monte saluted lazily with two fingers. "Yes, sir, Sheriff, sir."
Boyd rolled his eyes and stepped closer. "You know anything about the guy we brought in? The one who was in the Audi?"
Monte zipped up the second suitcase, shaking his head. "Haven't seen Kenny at all. Guy might be awake by now. From what I could tell he wasn't hurt that bad."
Boyd frowned thoughtfully. "Alright. I'll check with Kristi once he's awake."
Monte nodded, throwing the hoodie on. "Good idea. You said new arrivals were rare, but it feels like we're collecting people faster than we can feed 'em."
Boyd gave a tired chuckle. "You're not wrong."