087 – Petrichor

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Tiny, innumerable impacts slammed against the wood above and around us. A relentless barrage that was hard to find cover from, even with something over our heads. By sheer volume, it was enough to get hit, even with the aiming being scattershot in approach. It didn’t matter where we went, because, any spot had us in sights and under bombardment. We couldn’t get away, and there was zero percent of anything missing its target. No one was spared.

The rain fell, hard, soaking everything and everyone.

It kept barrelling down, seeping in through small cracks, dripping when the wood got too saturated. I could probably pick up a broken plank, squeeze it, and watch as water would come spilling out like a sponge.

I could, but I didn’t. Wasn’t up for movement, or much of anything else. I remained still, watching instead. Observing.

Feeling.

I had a hood over my head, but the back of my neck was damp, the wind being strong enough to whip bits of water around, getting into places I didn’t expect water to be able to get into. The tip of my nose and cheeks felt sticky, where the air grazed against wet skin. My glasses had taken the worst of it, droplets sticking onto the lenses and getting in the way of my line of sight, making everything blurry. Annoying. I didn’t even really need glasses, and yet I was being subjected to the minor inconveniences of wearing them.

It didn’t help in making me feel any better. Though, it was hard to imagine what would.

Drip, drip… drip. Rain kept hitting the top of my hood, in odd intervals, making it hard to predict, and when people’s natural inclinations were to find the patterns in things, it set me back, as if nature itself was pointing out how useless everything was, how useless I was, and had been.

The tiny impacts, the water hitting the roof above, the wind, and the offbeat dripping. The gathered noise resulted in sending a certain static through the air, and it coursed. My mind felt like it wasn’t being tuned to anything in particular, even with my eyes opened, blurred with water, wandering over what I could see, which wasn’t much. I wasn’t taking in much of anything.

Middle of the day, but it really didn’t feel like it. Overcast clouds had blocked most of the light, an overpowering, muggy grey. It was coloring my perception of things.

My lips were pressed to a line. Neutral, but if I had to put it on a sliding scale, I’d inch more towards…

I didn’t know. But it wouldn’t be up.

Another thing I learned about myself. Not a fan of rain.

I wonder if Alexis ever felt the same.

Digging my hands deeper into my pockets, my feet remained planted. In place, on damp wood. I sniffed the air. The smell of rain. Earthy. Soil getting a chance to come alive, joining the air when the rain came down to wake it up.

Hearing it, smelling it, sifting through the different, muddied, muddled emotions…

Nostalgic, in an odd way. Not that I had ever stepped foot into this place before, but being here, now, it still invoked feelings of déjà vu. A somber recollection.

Eerie, to be here. In Braham Barn.

Back to where it all started.

The building was exactly how it had been depicted in my nightmares. Broken, delipidated, with seemingly more holes than there were hard, solid surfaces. I kept blinking, but nothing came to fill those blanks. No yawning mouths, no staring eyes. It was a sign that I was awake, and another sign that I had gotten some decent sleep the night before. Which was good, I supposed.

Then, why did I feel so tired?

It felt wrong, standing here, being in this place. A distorted shift, a sort of universal… displacement. As if, on a fundamental level, it had been recognized that I wasn’t supposed to be here, not me. If anyone was to return here, it would have to be the other person that once had this face, that once had this body. But, the chance of them ever coming back at all was next to nil. And, on another fundamental level, I could feel the pushback. The wind kicked, as though it was trying to get me to lose my ground. Being inside, the wind would whip around as well, coming at me from different directions, going about removing me from any possible angle. It howled, and I could almost hear it scream her name.

It was… dizzying.

I tried to dig my feet more into the wooden floor. Difficult, seeing that the rain made the surface slick and slippery. Like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. I could fall at any moment, if I wasn’t careful.

Constant diligence.

“Wendy.”

I didn’t turn, but I shifted, so I could better face whoever was trying to get my attention. With the rain drowning out most sounds, they’d have to raise their voice to speak. It distorted, and required my full attention to make out who they were. I scrunched up my eyes behind foggy, wet glasses.

“D,” I said.

She replied with a wave, walking not in a straight line, but rather hopping over puddles, zig-zagging her way to me. She wasn’t playing her own game very well, because her boots would splash into water more often than not, kicking it up and getting her legs and skirt wet. But she didn’t seem to care. Her tongue was sticking out, pressed against the gap in her teeth as her forehead creased in concentration, even though she kept landing into water.

Same old her. D. With the oversized jacket and skirt and choker and everything. It was good to see her again.

I didn’t show my amusement on my face, though.

After a final hop, she landed at my side. That time, she didn’t hit a puddle.

D showed her amusement, though, beaming wide, as though she could break through the heavy clouds. If she was trying to be the sun, then her gap was a sunspot.

I looked away. Too bright for my eyes.

“You’re having fun,” I said.

“You’re not,” D said back. “I just try to make the most of it, when I can.”

“I mean, to be fair, we’re not even here to have fun.”

“I know, I’m just saying. That’s how I roll.”

My hand landed on her head. I wasn’t even looking at her, I could just gauge it from her height, and how close she was standing.

“Hey.”

“Where’s your umbrella?”

“My jacket pocket.”

“I gave it to you for a reason. Your hair’s wet.”

“I’m already wet. No point in using it now.”

I breathed, and my glasses fogged up even more. My hand went back into my pocket. Inside, I cracked a knuckle. My middle finger.

I had never been so aware of my skin before, how my clothes sat on my body. How uncomfortable it was, like putting on a sweater that someone else had worn right before. Still warm. Disgusting.

“This is a bust, isn’t it?” D asked. From her tone, I could guess that she wasn’t beaming anymore. Clouds. Overcast. Grey. Colored perceptions.

“I think… we were doomed before we ever had a chance to start,” I said. That familiar feeling again.

“So gloomy,” D retorted, “But yeah. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged, leaning forward, leaning against the wind and rain.

“It’s not like you physically made it rain before we got here. We checked before we left, and thought the worst had already passed. If only that was the case.”

“How foreboding of you,” D commented, with a giggle at the end.

All I could do was shrug. Again.

“Probably for the best, anyways. I knew to keep my expectations rather low. Really low.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Realistically? Nothing, and that’s exactly what I got. A whole lot of nothing.”

“That’s not true. There’s… a buttload of water.”

I would have laughed at that, if I was up for it. I wasn’t.

“What about you?” I asked. “Happy now? We finally came here to check it out.”

“It’s not that. I wanted you to want to come here, if that makes sense. To see if you could find anything on your own.”

“But,” D added, “I’m not unhappy.”

I leaned in another direction, slight, when the wind and water picking up again. Pushing back even harder.

“Could be a start,” I said. “In that it started here, but that’s about it. This barn served its purpose, there’s nothing left to it anymore. And anything that could still be here got washed away, even before this shower. It’s all gone, now. No evidence, no trail. Nothing.”

“You hadn’t taken a step past where you’re standing since we got here. You’re here, but you’ve barely tried.”

Again, the wind pushed, and I pressed against the balls of my feet. Back. I shook my head as more water got spat into my face. I flinched.

“It’s pointless,” I said.

Then, I looked skyward, and saw the roof of the barn. No clouds in view, but water would still come down from the cracks and gaps, landing on my nose or glasses.

Ah, I hate the rain, I thought.

Another push, but this time it was harder, physical. It forced to me lose ground, and I would have slipped and fallen over if hands weren’t there to hold me, guide me.

I moved forward.

“Nuh-uh, Vivi,” I heard D say. She had me in an embrace, holding tight, shoving me to get me to walk. “No more doom and gloom for you. Just give it a proper look through, and if you can’t actually find anything through your own merits, then we can call it a day and leave.”

Part of me wanted to protest, to put my foot down and stop her, and say I was ready to leave now… but that was just a part. A larger, harder to ignore part of me recognized that this was important, and that I had to be here for my own good. Whatever ‘good’ meant for someone like me, I didn’t know, that particular metric was nebulous, now. I just knew that I had to do this, it had to happen, even if I’d end up with nothing in return.

Letting D push me, I walked ahead.

Going deeper into dark, damp barn, water sloshing under my feet, I let my eyes wander around, checking on the others and glancing where there might actually be something. The others were searching, and D had been putting in the effort… It wouldn’t have been fair to them, if I didn’t pull my weight. I was the reason why we had come here, and, in a larger sense, why every bit of this mess had started in the first place. Blank Face, the Bluemoon, the Halloween Riots, Solace…

The attack at the school, Benny, V, Los Colmillos, Solace again…

And then the trail lead back here.

We weren’t even done. There was so much more I had to do.

I was back, but here never felt so far away.

Listless, I stopped. I had let D push me, but now, I put my foot down.

D bumped into me, her momentum still carrying her. I didn’t budge.

“We can start here then,” D said, walking around to my side.

“Sure,” I said.

“I’m really glad you’re doing this,” D said. A general statement.

I pursed my lips. If I had the energy to say another word, it would have been the same one.

We started.

There wasn’t much, where D had taken us. Some broken bits of wood and bricks, scraps of metal by a bale of hay, made dark brown from all the water it had absorbed. Not much in the way of places for potential leads to hide. One quick scan was enough to gauge that.

Still, though, I put in the effort. It was only fair.

I bent down, starting by sorting through the metal scraps. Piece by piece, I picked them up and set them to the side, taking a glance at each one. Bolts, nuts, screws. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. Just as I… expected.

Moving on to a nearby pile of bricks, I started tossing them away. I was displacing things more than I was trying to find openings, uncovering them for any secrets. All I got was water, falling between my fingertips, harder to grasp, harder still to take away anything concrete out of it.

I threw a brick to the ground, hard enough for a piece to chip off. I grabbed another, and squeezed just hard enough for it to crack.

Restless, but I was lost on how to direct any of that energy.

I breathed. It came out funny.

“Nothing here,” I said, reporting my findings.

“Same,” D said. I heard her grunt a few times, and when I turned, I saw that she had been kicking at the wet bale of hay. Droplets of water flicked out from every impact.

“What are you doing?”

“Stupid thing won’t, ugh, move!”

“Here,” I said, getting up. I walked over to her, a short distance. My hands went to the side of the bale of hay, where some rope tied everything together.

In one quick motion, I had it up over my head. Two droplets hit the top of my hood before I tossed it, letting the bale drop a safe distance away, where the splash wouldn’t reach us.

“Thank you thank you,” D said. She whispered it, but I heard her over the rain.

“And it’s still nothing,” I said. Nothing but another puddle. “Why bother?”

“No stone unturned, you know? That’s how I found those weapons from The Chariot, back when we were hunting Benny. I just keep looking, and I’ll come across something, eventually. I always do.”

D stepped into the space the bale of hay once occupied. She hopped a little, and I stepped back to avoid getting more wet.

“But, in this case, it’s goose eggs, except I’d rather have goose eggs, because at least that’s something, and who knows, maybe it might lead to something else and be a clue.”

“Are you saying that you want me to be some half-animal hybrid?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t that be something?”

My hand found its way to her head again.

“Ow.”

“Quit playing around.”

“I would rather never take another breath. Ow.”

I put my hand back down, to my side.

“I’ll go check with the others, after that we can head out.”

“The others? Other places to search?”

I searched, and found what I was looking for. Who.

Crossing the length of the barn, I walked over to her. I heard D having to pick up the pace in order to keep up.

“Sarah,” I called out, reaching.

Her ears perked up, then her head, and then she turned to see me approach. Her smile was slight but there. It was the smallest of quirks, but I happened to pick up on it.

I picked up on other stuff, as well.

Sarah had dressed for the weather, wearing darker tones, but with thicker material that could handle the oncoming rain. A black, cropped turtleneck under a long grey raincoat, with a skirt that rest just above her knees. She went without tights, but if she was anything like me, she didn’t like the feeling of wet fabric stuck against skin. Black boots that went past her ankles as an added measure against the water. A red five-panel hat added just enough color and spice to the outfit, as practical as it was fashionable.

She had been bending over a picnic table and what looked like half a tractor. I regretted calling out to her too soon. But watching her get up wasn’t so bad, either.

“Wendy,” she said, as we approached her.

Not Voss.

Like with D, I had looked away, but for different reasons.

“Any luck?” D asked, stepping in for me.

“Not here, not anywhere,” Sarah replied. “Sorry.”

“Nah, no big, it’s not your fault. Right, Vivi?”

The name grabbed my attention. “Uh, yeah, it’s not.”

Nervous, I looked back at Sarah, readying myself, as if I’d actually have to shield my eyes.

Sarah.

She was here, she had come with us, and I still couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think she’d be up for even standing next to me after what happened just a week ago. I still couldn’t believe it had already been that long.

Already? Only? I wasn’t sure how to gauge my feelings on that passage of time.

“Feels weird to be here though,” Sarah said. Hazel eyes inspected the corners of the barn, taking in the view.

“Weird how?”

“I used to go to parties at the mansion down the road, back in my college days. Here though, now? It’s like I’m in some historical site. There should be a plaque that explains what happened here.”

“It’s not that special.”

“Oh? I think it is.”

My hands went back into my pockets as I said, “In any case, we’re just about ready to go, so if you’ve been wanting to take a break sifting through wet trash, then you’re free.”

“Is that an order?” Sarah questioned. Her tone was light, the corners of her lips still turning upward. Even in the rain, she could still be that bright.

I tapped my tongue against the back of my teeth.

“It’s a really strong suggestion,” I said. My gaze fell to my feet.

“I’ll take it. Let me just finish up here, then.”

“Sure thing. Um, D?”

I had to turn my head to face D properly.

“What’s up, Vivi?” she asked.

I struggled on how to articulate how I wanted this next part to go.

“Do you mind, uh, giving me a second?”

D nodded, her eyes on me, a little wide.

“Sure, okay.”

She stood there. The usual elements continued to batter at us. Didn’t take long for the pause to become unbearable.

“Could you give us a second?” I asked, restating my question. I was staring back at D, shifting my eyes to Sarah’s direction to better drive home my point.

D’s eyes then went wider, her mouth opening like a yawn, and she nodded again, with an agonizing slowness.

“Oh, okay,” she said, just as paced, “You want to be alone with her? Why?”

Darn you, D.

She was so smart, but she really knew how to play dumb.

My hands found their way to her head, for a third time. I spun her around and gave her a soft nudge.

“Go find some more puddles to jump into,” I said.

“But I already got all of them!”

“If you give me a minute I’ll punch some wood and make more for you.”

“Like actually?”

I put more of my strength into another nudge, and for D, it was strong enough that she’d fall if she didn’t run to catch herself. Carrying her momentum forward, D jogged and started hopping.

Turning my attention back to Sarah, I smiled. Or, at least, I tried to. I felt too dumb and embarrassed to properly wear that mask.

“Sorry about that,” I said, that feeling persisted.

Sarah managed one of her own. Warm, genuine. The opposite of the weather that assaulted us. Something I didn’t know I needed.

“You’re all straight,” Sarah said.

Was I?

“Kids,” I said, watching D. She ran like she didn’t have a care in the world, kicking up water until it splashed onto the sides of her raincoat and skirt. “Who would’ve thought they’d be such handfuls?”

I tried to put some sarcasm in my voice, but I doubted that it came out right.

“I bet,” was her reply. “I was thinking more along the lines of a little sister.”

“Sister? What makes you think that?”

“It’s just my gut reaction. I can say that though, since I have a little sister of my own.”

“Oh. So… I’m guessing you had to be around kids a lot?”

I wanted to kick myself.

The hell was I talking about? That was my next move?

I wanted to melt into a puddle right then and there.

Sarah, for her part, took the question in earnest.

“Used to. As I mentioned, my sister. She’s in middle school now, I think, is that right? What grade is thirteen again?”

“Probably middle school,” I offered.

“Then, yeah.” Sarah’s bright expression remained, but it looked more apologetic. “You can tell that I haven’t been around them for a while, huh?”

“You haven’t?”

“Doing this full-time kind of necessitates some distance between you and any parental units.”

“I bet. Do you… ever regret putting that distance there?”

I wasn’t sure what I was getting at, or where I was going with this. Just wandering through this conversation. No real direction.

“Regret? I wouldn’t say that. I mean, of course it sucks that I don’t get to see my family all that often, but at the same time, we weren’t all that great when we were together, anyways.”

“Oh,” I said. “Were your parents strict or something?”

Why was I pressing it? Why did I care?

Somehow, for some reason, Sarah continued to indulge me.

“Difference in opinion. That’s all.”

To ask for any more would be pressing it for real. I went quiet, wind and water filling the dead air.

Taking a chance, I looked at Sarah, stealing a glance. Gauging if she was being annoyed with me being here or not.

“Anything else on your mind?”

With a snap, her eyes locked onto mine. Darn. She was quick.

With another snap, I broke the eye contact. Back to the floor.

“I, um, nothing in particular. Why, what would make you even think that?”

“It’s written all over your face.”

My breathed fogged, making my glasses cloudy. I was warm in the face.

This wasn’t even what I came here to do.

As I struggled to regain any composure, Sarah spoke. “You did say you didn’t mind being read, if it was me.”

“You remembered that,” I said, unable to look at anything for longer than a second or two.

“Of course.”

I was being put on the spot. I had to say something, or I’d look stupid, in front of Sarah.

Though, I already looked stupid, so I just had to not look even more stupid in front of her.

I cracked the knuckle of my middle finger again, and the effect was immediate. A sudden discomfort. Conscious of my skin and body, how gross and out of place I felt. How even the weather didn’t want me here.

I frowned.

I muttered, “Then you read right, I guess.” Speaking up, I added, “I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to come here. You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, no, Wendy, it’s no problem. I don’t mind being out here at all, even if it means being out in the rain. I want to be a help to you.”

All words I didn’t mind hearing, made sweeter hearing them come from her, but…

Endless doubts. Second guesses. Deep uncertainty.

“But you didn’t have to. You don’t have to. You could have quit and dropped the Fangs after we got back from El Paso, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. Things, well, it didn’t go as planned.”

“Of mice and men,” Sarah said.

“Huh?”

“I’ve told you this before, Wendy, but this was never a burden that you had to carry on your own, even if you are super strong. So, if you’re to put the blame all on yourself, don’t. It’s not healthy, and it’s not realistic.”

“It did get pretty bad, though, and I probably didn’t help things, in the end. The whole time, we had been set up for the transport to be infiltrated and sabotaged, and for me to be taken out during all of that.”

“You forget that Styx sent that Solace guy to do a two-part job. And the other part was to dismantle that cartel. It wasn’t just you.”

“One person, and a whole organization, a whole cult of people. That doesn’t stack up so equally, to me.”

“Wendy.”

A hand on my shoulder. Not to push me, or to get me to move. Just to keep me down, to stay firmly in place.

“It’s never just one person. You’re not alone in this. There’s a whole gang behind you, and that’s what had them scared. You have real power outside of just yourself, and that has people like Styx worried. Maybe even Mister, too. Don’t sell yourself short, because that puts the rest of us down.”

I won’t stop selling myself short, I thought, the sentiment echoing from another time in my life. From before I had taken control of this body.

Very aware of my skin.

“I-” I started, but I couldn’t find the words. No. That wasn’t it. I could find the words, but saying them was a whole other problem, entirely.

I killed someone.

Even if that person was Solace, despite everything he was responsible for, all the transgressions he had done unto so many others, Alexis and I excluded, he was still a person. And even with a gun, there wasn’t really any sort of distance, no blame to put on a single bullet, or several, in my case. I still had to own this, and I hated it.

And that conflict entrenched itself into several levels, some deep. That, somewhere deep within me, I still did see myself a person, and not the monster I believed I had to be. That my powers still put me here, among the rest.

And, as a person, I had robbed another of their life. And in turn, the most important thing I’d ever need, they had taken it with them. Knowledge. Information.

There was so much that I wanted to ask him.

My breathing grew heavy, unmeasured, like the rain.

I felt a squeeze. Sarah. Her hand was still on my shoulder.

“You forget that I was there, too,” Sarah said, “I saw how hard you worked to try and save us. Me. And I’m still here, you have D. Tone… I mean, everyone deserves a little break, but he’s still on board, and you can always count on Reggie.”

I forced my thoughts to go elsewhere.

I didn’t miss how she described Tone. That was the most I’d heard about him since we got back from El Paso.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Sarah’s hand. There was a bandage wrapped around the palm and back.

That feeling, again. Discomfort. But there was a warmth there, too. Another kind.

“I must sound like a dumb kid to you,” I said.

Even more stupid.

“Not dumb, I’d never think that. You’re just someone who has a lot of learning and growing to do. Like I said, it’s part of being young.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my… not really question, but, uh, do you even know what I mean?”

“I think it answers your question, and yeah, I get where you’re coming from, this time.”

This time?

“But, I have to say,” Sarah said, and I could feel my stomach start to drop at that, “It’s a good thing that you’re able to talk about this stuff. Being more open. It’s a real relief to me.”

I was spared that particular ache. But I still found it hard to breathe.

Exhaling my words, I said, “Maybe. It’s your fault that you’re so easy to talk to.”

A dry chuckle. “I do apologize for my magnetizing charisma.”

I brushed her hand off me. The back of my hand grazed her bandage, then a bit of skin.

“Whatever,” I said.

The quiet fell back down, reigning over us. They solidified into physical taps against our heads. I could gauge the time that passed by guessing how many poured down. Had to be in the hundreds.

I still didn’t like the rain.

But, it seemed more bearable, now. Less of a burden.

“Should probably get back,” I said, “No point in sticking around.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Using that as my cue, I put a hand up to my face, close to my face, and cleared my throat.

“We’re leaving!”

D stopped in her tracks, wobbling on one foot as I got her attention, turning to me. She copied my gesture and yelled back.

“Okie!”

She started running again, making herself into more of a mess.

But, where D was seemingly oblivious to the chaos she was causing, Isabella was hyper aware of her next move and her surroundings.

She had come along to see the barn, being curious herself. I had my concerns at first, how Isabella would handle being around D, considering their brief history together. She had made her terms very clear, should she decide to come back to Stephenville. The two of them were not to be in the same room together.

But, here they were, together. It wasn’t a room, though, but a barn, but the same principle applied. It wasn’t a mess, or rather, it wasn’t messy. Isabella seemed to tolerate D’s presence well enough, and D wasn’t bugging or teasing her like I feared she would. There was some splashback from D jumping around too much, but Isabella knew to keep her distance, staying in a corner, looking through stuff.

It might not last, but for now, it worked. And it gave me a sliver of hope in how this all turns out, moving forward. It made the rain that much more bearable.

I watched as the girls approached. D, as she ran, and Isabella, as she watched D as she passed, so she wouldn’t get hit with water.

“Thanks again,” I told Sarah, almost absentmindedly. As if I was reaching in the dark, trying to feel if she was still there.

“You’re welcome, again, but I’m not sure what I did this time.”

“You putting up with me, even when I was rambling or losing direction on whatever we were talking about.”

“You’re fine. Besides, if it’s with you, I don’t mind getting lost.”

My face got warm enough that it could fog my glasses again. I wanted to see if she was wearing a similar expression, but I was afraid to show her what mine might look like, at the moment.

“I’m flattered,” I said, eyes down.

“Hey, I’m just repeating what you said to me before.”

“Repeat about what?”

D had arrived, announcing her presence with yet another hop. That time, she splashed at my feet. It was a good thing we all had boots on.

I shook my head, probably harder than I should have.

“Nothing,” I said.

D pouted. “Come on, tell meeee.”

“It’s grown up stuff,” Sarah said. “You wouldn’t be interested.”

“That’s crud, I deal with grown up stuff all the time. You think I’m only about fun and games?”

“Yes,” I said.

D blinked water out her eyes. “Oh. Well then.”

From behind her, Isabella finally caught up.

She was wearing the same clothes from the trip to El Paso. Her leather jacket gave her some decent covering against the weather, her backpack providing some coverage for her back, too. All that was missing was her teddy bear. That had been left behind, in another town over.

Compared to the rest of us, she hadn’t gotten too wet. Her hair was in pigtails, but they weren’t clumped together or sticking to her cheeks. She’d done a good job in staying out of the way of any incoming water.

She took a step, then several, away from D, and looked my way. She shook her head and gestured. Nothing in her hands.

I nodded. Nothing we could really do about it.

“We good now?” D asked. She grabbed her skirt, bunching it together. She twisted, and wringed some water out.

“As far as coming back here is concerned,” I said. My eyes roved over the barn’s interior. One more time, for good measure. “It’s as good as we’re ever going to get.”

“Doom and gloom,” D said. She smiled. “We’ll have to work on that.”

My expression remained. “And we have a few ways to go about doing that. But we don’t have to get to everything all at once. We can pace ourselves. For now, let’s just get out of this rain.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sarah said.

And with that, we all took our leave from the barn, escaping from what little shelter it provided, and we faced the wind and rain in full force, completely exposed.

It sucked, in all honesty, and it only made me feel all the more despondent. Forlorn. I hated the rain, and I hated that it was like some outward expression of the emotions I had, internally. And I hated that I was having such lame, corny thoughts.

Not that sunny days were any better, with how blinding it could get. No, for my part, I preferred the nighttime, to be alone with the moon. Peace.

But I had killed my chances of that a week ago. All I could do now was pick up the pieces. Which was the most anyone could do, really.

We moved as a group, walking fast, reaching the van that was parked a short distance away from the barn’s entrance. Using her keys, Sarah unlocked the doors with a push of button, and we were all able to get in without much hassle. I was in the passenger side, D in the row behind me, Isabella in the row behind her. Sarah drove.

I was grateful for Sarah. Grateful that she agreed to drive us, grateful that her wanting to be here seemed genuine. Grateful that she was so easy to talk to, even when it was hard sometimes. But it was the good kind of hard. The kind of challenge I was okay with facing alone.

Sarah started the van, and I stole a final look at the barn.

I remembered it. I remembered everything. It was as clear as the day was not.

Wandering through the fields of corn, coming across a small trail of blood, and then her.

The girl that started it all and sent Alexis and I down this spiral.

I didn’t know who she was, I didn’t know where she might be, and all traces of her had been washed away. Maybe this place was the site of something unusual, something strange, but now, it had gone back to what it was before. Nothing more than a decaying, decrepit barn. In ruins.

Good.

I was glad that our search hadn’t turned up anything, that, in the end, it turned out to be a bust. There was nothing here for us, no more secrets left to be uncovered. What had been done was in the past, and we couldn’t get that back. Gone with the wind and water.

Not that any of this even mattered. It didn’t matter how I got here, where these powers had come from, and where that girl was now. It had been this long, and I had gotten this far without it being a thing. If the past were to come back to haunt me, it would be like a walking corpse. Creeping, in the distance, and easy to put back down. I had the resources to handle a situation, should it come up. Being a leader of a gang had its perks, after all.

And I’d have help, should that time come. Help had been offered, and I was able to get myself to accept that I’d need it. I preferred to be alone, but I didn’t have to be.

Which was… comforting, in a way.

Like I’d admit any of this to D.

Sarah got the van moving, turning us around, and were we able to put the barn behind us. Finally.

“What’s the time?”

Isabella asked from the back of the van.

Making a habit out of it, I cracked my knuckle before taking my hand out of my pocket. I checked the time.

A simple and sleek design. The face was all black, no numbers or markings, and the thin, long hands were gold. A watch, a relic of a past I would have rather forgotten, yet here it was. Seeing it gave me an unpleasant pang, an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. An echo.

I really was a sentimental one.

“Just past noon,” I said, facing forward, with the forsaken barn no longer in sight or in mind.

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