CHAPTER 2
The road stretched out like a ribbon pulled tight by the hands of the sky. Early sunlight glimmered across the hood of Liam's beat-up sedan, and the engine hummed a tune that was half enthusiasm and half threat. But no one cared. They were finally out. Truly out. No turning back unless someone died or the car exploded, and even then Jasmine insisted they'd hitchhike.
Ethan still felt the weight of his father's stare lingering behind them, like a shadow running miles to catch up. But he forced himself to breathe, to settle into the messy warmth of his friends and the stupid playlist Liam insisted on playing.
"This is actually happening," Jasmine said, leaning forward between the seats to steal a fry out of Liam's breakfast container. "We're going. For real."
"We are, indeed, moving forward," Aria replied flatly, scrolling through her phone. "Congratulations to us for mastering the basic function of driving."
Liam gasped dramatically. "Aria, show some respect. This car is practically a war hero."
Caleb snorted. "If by war hero you mean 'survived fifteen mechanical near-deaths.'"
"Sixteen," Liam corrected proudly.
Ethan glanced at Caleb. "Actually surprised you're counting."
"Someone has to document our suffering."
Jasmine laughed, nudging Caleb with her elbow. "Aww, look at you. Participating."
"Barely," he said, but he wore a small, reluctant smile.
The road curved, climbing a soft hill. As they rose higher, their entire town appeared behind them—tiny, blurry, almost like a child's painting. A little cluster of rooftops and old buildings, a place that meant childhood to some and suffocation to others.
Ethan felt something sharp in his chest. Nostalgia, maybe. Or dread. Hard to tell.
"So…" Jasmine said, leaning back and kicking her shoes off, "we should probably tell the universe where we're going, right? Before it gets confused and drops us in Kansas."
"We're not going anywhere near Kansas," Aria said.
"Still!" Jasmine insisted. "We need intention. Manifestation. Say it out loud."
Liam cleared his throat like he was making an announcement. "Ladies, gentlemen, Caleb—"
Caleb threw an empty gum wrapper at him.
"We are heading," Liam continued, dramatically, "to the glorious, magnificent, extremely budget-friendly—"
"Ridgewater Lakes," Aria finished, unimpressed. "Liam, it's not that deep."
"It is if you hype it right."
Ethan stretched his legs, looking out at the fields turning gold under the growing morning light. "Ridgewater Lakes, huh? Finally gonna swim somewhere that doesn't have warning signs."
"Those signs are optional," Jasmine argued.
"Jasmine," Aria said, "they literally had skulls on them."
"Decoration," she said.
Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Jasmine. You almost got bit by a water snake."
"It SPARKLED," she insisted. "It was cute."
"No," Caleb said firmly, "it was not cute. It wanted you dead."
"Well, it failed," she said smugly.
Ethan shook his head. "How are you even alive?"
Jasmine pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at Ethan. "Plot armor."
The laughter filled the car again, stretching across the seats like sunlight. It felt right. It felt like the five of them were meant to be exactly here, on this road, at this moment.
But something in Caleb's lensing silence tugged at Ethan's attention.
Caleb wasn't usually the quiet type. Broody, sure. Sarcastic, definitely. But this… this was different. His eyes kept flicking to the rear-view mirror, like he expected something to appear behind them. His fingers tapped against his knee, the rhythm uneven.
"What's up?" Ethan asked softly, catching his gaze.
Caleb blinked, startled. "Nothing."
"You're tapping," Ethan said.
"I tap sometimes."
"You tap when you're nervous."
"Then maybe I'm nervous."
Jasmine turned her head at that. "Why? We literally just left. We haven't even done anything illegal yet."
The "yet" hung suspiciously, because with these five, it was always a possibility.
Caleb hesitated, then shrugged. "Just… feels weird. Leaving. All together. Like something's off."
Aria frowned. "You good? Did your dad say something?"
Caleb went still. Too still.
"No," he said quickly. "He didn't."
Ethan didn't buy it.
Jasmine didn't buy it.
Aria didn't buy it.
But none of them pushed—not yet. Not when the road was finally opening wide and inviting.
The highway unrolled endlessly, splitting farmland and forests, old barns leaning like they were too tired to stand straight. They passed a fruit stand where a woman waved lazily, and Liam considered stopping until Aria threatened to strangle him with her seat belt.
By noon, the sun blazed overhead, and they stopped at a rest area with a cracked picnic table and vending machines straight out of 1999.
Jasmine bought three bags of sour candy. Aria disinfected the table twice. Liam and Ethan tossed a football around until Liam nearly hit a biker and apologized thirty times. Caleb wandered toward the tree line, staring at the view.
Ethan joined him.
"Seriously," Ethan said quietly, "what's going on?"
Caleb's jaw tightened. "It's stupid."
"Everything you say is stupid," Ethan said, lightly punching his arm. "So what's new?"
Caleb sighed. "Last night my dad told me something. Something weird."
"What kind of weird?"
"He said… I should be careful on this trip. That people aren't always who you think they are."
Ethan blinked. "That's not weird. That's just what dads say when they want you home by nine."
"No," Caleb whispered, voice dropping. "He said it differently. Like… like he knew something."
Ethan frowned. "About us?"
Caleb didn't answer, and that silence was louder than any explanation.
But before Ethan could press, Jasmine clapped loudly behind them. "Alright! You two moody statues ready to go? I found a soda machine that takes literal pocket lint."
They packed up and continued the drive.
The land shifted as they entered the northern routes. Tall pine forests rose like walls, swallowing the sky. The road narrowed, twisting, dipping, bending around cliffs and sharp edges.
"Are we sure the GPS isn't drunk?" Liam asked as the road curved again.
"It's not drunk," Aria said. "It's just outdated."
"Well, that's comforting."
Around evening, shadows grew long, stretching across the road like dark fingers. The sky dimmed to purple, and the forest whispered with unseen things.
Caleb stared out the window, quiet again.
Jasmine leaned closer. "You okay? You look like you're waiting to see a ghost."
"Just tired."
"You look haunted," she corrected.
"That's just my face," Caleb muttered.
But Ethan saw something else. Caleb kept touching his wrist—not a nervous twitch, but like checking whether something was still there. Or missing.
Liam finally broke the tension. "Okay, new rule. Whoever acts the most mysterious buys dinner."
"Caleb," Jasmine and Ethan said together.
"Agreed," Aria added.
Caleb groaned. "I hate all of you."
"You love us," Jasmine sang.
"Unfortunately."
They drove another hour until neon lights appeared through the trees—a rundown roadside hotel with a flickering sign:
PINEWAY LODGEVacancy · Wi-Fi · Coffee
"Wi-Fi," Liam said. "Sold."
They parked, grabbed their bags, and checked in. The lobby smelled like dust and mint gum. The owner, an old man with sharp eyes, watched them too long, like memorizing their faces.
Caleb flinched when the man stared at him.
Ethan noticed.
They went to their two rooms—girls in one, boys in the other. The hallway was dim, wallpaper peeling, lights buzzing like angry insects.
In the boys' room, Ethan tossed his bag down. Caleb sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
"You tired?" Ethan asked.
Caleb didn't answer.
Instead, he looked up slowly. His eyes had that hollow look again.
"Ethan," he whispered, "did you notice that guy at the front desk?"
"Yeah? He looked like he hates teenagers."
"No. He… recognized me."
"What?"
"He looked at me like…" Caleb swallowed hard. "Like he already knew who I was."
Ethan felt a cold rush go down his spine. "Cal, maybe you're overthinking—"
"No," Caleb said, standing abruptly. "Something's wrong. I can feel it. My dad, the way he looked at me last night, and now this—"
He cut off when a loud knock hit the door.
They both froze.
"Boys," Jasmine's voice came from the hallway, muffled, "we're going to eat! Move your faces!"
Ethan exhaled. Caleb did not.
They joined the girls. The nearby diner was nearly empty, the waiter slow, the food good enough. But the mood had shifted. Even Jasmine wasn't as loud, Aria kept glancing at Caleb, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling something was crawling under the surface.
When they returned to the hotel, night fully swallowed the sky.
The parking lot was silent. Too silent.
As they walked under the flickering sign, Caleb stopped suddenly.
"What is it?" Ethan asked.
Caleb pointed.
On the ground, right beside their car, lay a wallet. Beaten, torn, black leather.
Caleb picked it up.
His hand shook.
Ethan leaned over his shoulder.
Inside the ID slot was Caleb's name.
Caleb's face.
Caleb's address.
But the wallet wasn't Caleb's.
He'd never seen it before.
Ethan swallowed. "Caleb… why is your ID in someone else's wallet?"
Caleb stared at it, jaw trembling.
"I don't know," he whispered. "I swear—I don't know."
The wind rustled the pines around them like whispered warnings.
And for the first time on the trip, Ethan felt something cold settle into his bones.
Something was wrong with Caleb.
Or something was wrong around him.
Either way—
Night had come.
And it wasn't friendly.