Quinn sat at the edge of the wooden dock, legs dangling above the dark, rippling water. The late afternoon sun burned low on the horizon, painting the clouds in crimson and gold, but its beauty barely touched the weight sitting in her chest. The lake looked calm, but she knew the currents beneath could drag anything down without a sound.
Behind her, the familiar crunch of boots on gravel drew closer. "You're hard to find," Elias said, his voice carrying that mix of relief and frustration.
"I wasn't hiding," Quinn replied without turning. "Just… thinking."
"Thinking," Elias echoed, stepping up beside her. "That's dangerous these days."
She shot him a sidelong glance. "Says the man who walked straight into an enemy stronghold last week."
"That was different. I had a plan."
"You had a death wish," she countered.
He smiled faintly, but his eyes stayed on the water. "We got out alive. That counts for something."
The silence between them stretched, filled only by the gentle lap of the water against the dock's pillars. Then Elias finally said, "The others are worried about you. You've been distant since… what happened in the tunnels."
Quinn's jaw tightened. Images from that night still flashed in her mind—the metallic smell of blood, the echo of shouts, the flickering light as shadows seemed to twist into something alive. "I keep replaying it," she admitted. "The moment I saw it. That… thing. It wasn't human, Elias. It wasn't even close."
His hand rested briefly on her shoulder, a rare gesture from someone who was usually all business. "I believe you. But if it's what I think it is, then it's only the beginning."
Before she could ask what he meant, a sudden splash made both of them snap their heads toward the water. Something dark moved just beneath the surface, then vanished.
Elias crouched, scanning the lake. "That wasn't a fish."
Quinn's fingers tightened on the dock's edge. "You think it's connected?"
"I think we need to be ready for anything," he said grimly.
Footsteps sounded again, this time hurried and heavy. Callen jogged toward them, breathless. "You two—come quick. There's trouble at the camp."
They exchanged a glance, tension tightening like a noose. Without another word, Quinn and Elias followed him up the path toward the trees.
By the time they reached the clearing, the camp was a mess. Gear lay scattered, two tents collapsed, and a group of their people stood in a tight knot around someone lying on the ground. Quinn's stomach dropped when she saw who it was—Rhea, pale and barely conscious, her skin clammy with sweat.
"She just collapsed," one of the younger scouts stammered. "Said something was following her on the way back from the ridge."
Elias knelt beside Rhea, checking her pulse. "She's alive, but weak. Something drained her."
Quinn's mind raced. "Like in the tunnels?"
He didn't answer directly, but the grim look on his face was enough.
Before anyone could say more, a low, unnatural hum filled the clearing, vibrating through the air like the deep note of some massive instrument. Quinn felt it in her bones. The shadows at the edge of the camp seemed to ripple, and a cold wind stirred the treetops.
Then, just for an instant, she saw them—tall, distorted figures standing between the trees, their forms wavering like smoke.
When she blinked, they were gone.
"We're not safe here," Elias said, standing. "Pack up. We move now."
Nobody argued. The group began to work in frantic silence, the sense of being watched pressing down on them like a physical weight.
As they set off down the forest trail, Quinn walked at the back, her eyes scanning the trees. The sun had almost set, and the shadows were deepening.
She thought about the stillness of the lake, the unseen currents below—how something could lurk right beneath the surface, hidden until it struck.
And for the first time since the tunnels, she wasn't sure they'd see the morning.