Inside the sheriff's station, the smell of burnt flesh still lingered in the air. The two charred bodies of the creatures had been stacked inside an isolated room in the back, covered with a stained sheet while they waited to be buried.
At the front desk, Boyd carefully packed a worn canvas backpack, placing two flashlights and a set of spare batteries inside while keeping a double-barreled shotgun within easy reach on the table.
Three short knocks interrupted the silence. Khatri walked over to the door and turned the handle, finding Kenny on the other side.
The deputy stepped inside, anticipation written across his face.
"Did the plan work?"
"Yes. We managed to kill two of them." Boyd didn't even raise his head, focused on closing the backpack's zipper.
For a moment, Kenny's shoulders relaxed. Then he noticed the packed bag and the shotgun on the table, and that brief sense of relief vanished. A crease formed between his eyebrows.
"Shouldn't we find a way to kill them all before risking entering that cave?"
The sheriff exhaled through his nose. He didn't seem surprised by the question, only tired of having to answer it again.
"We don't have that kind of time, Kenny."
The deputy knew he wouldn't be able to change Boyd's mind, but that had never stopped him from trying.
Near the window, Khatri watched the two men. Of everyone there, only he, Kristi, and Kenny knew the true extent of Boyd's urgency.
The degenerative disease slowly advancing through the sheriff's body had turned this decision into something far greater than a simple investigation.
The door opened again. Donna walked in with her usual determined stride, but her nose wrinkled the moment she caught the lingering odor. She quickly put the pieces together, though she still asked just to be sure.
"What was that noise last night?"
Boyd summarized what had happened in a few words: the ambush, the grenade, the Molotov cocktails, and finally, the two bodies now waiting for a grave.
Donna's expression changed gradually, a mixture of relief and caution settling over her features. It was like receiving excellent news while already suspecting there was something unpleasant buried in the fine print.
"Two down." She paused. "That's... that's good. We can kill more of these monsters."
"There's still the issue with the grenades." The priest folded his arms. "We need to buy more from Daniel, and we don't even know how many he has left. We can't build a strategy around something we don't control."
Donna moistened her lips as she thought. "Maybe we should try again without the grenade. Just the fire. But, before that..." She looked at Boyd and then at the others. "How about we tell the town? They need to know these things can die."
The sheriff remained silent for several seconds, weighing the consequences.
"On one hand, giving them this news brings some hope back to the town. Everyone thinks these things are untouchable. On the other, if people start believing they can do the same thing on their own, we could see a bloodbath."
"I think the hope outweighs the risk," Khatri replied. "They need to believe it can fight back. Not just survive."
"I agree with the priest." Kenny nodded. "Especially because if they find out we've been hiding this, they might stop trusting us."
Boyd said nothing, letting the arguments settle in his mind. Finally, he sighed and nodded, though he didn't look entirely convinced.
"All right. Spread the word."
Donna seemed satisfied, but only then did she notice the equipment laid out.
"Are you going somewhere?"
"I'm going to check the cave."
Her expression hardened at the blunt response.
"Is that really wise? We don't even know what's in there."
"That's exactly why." He met her gaze. "It's better for me to check it out before someone unprepared goes in there and gets themselves killed out of sheer stupidity."
Donna still tried to argue. She talked about the unknown, the risks, and the possibility of waiting for more information, but Boyd remained unmoved.
Realizing she wasn't going to make him back down, Donna finally let the argument go, though her displeasure remained obvious.
Boyd closed the backpack and lifted it from the table. Before leaving, he turned toward Kenny, and his tone shifted slightly.
"Kenny, you take care of the town while I'm gone. You and the Khatri can gather everyone and tell them how we managed to kill the creatures. The bodies are in that room. Show them to anyone who wants to see."
Kenny's eyes widened slightly. The order carried a weight far greater than simply putting him in charge of the town. It sounded like a changing of the guard, a grim precaution from someone preparing for the possibility that he might not return.
...
Inside the motorhome, the smell of smoked bacon, butter-fried eggs, and fresh coffee filled the kitchen. Daniel moved around in front of the stove, flipping a pancake in the pan when the familiar sound of a notification echoed directly inside his mind.
[New Skill Acquired.]
🍳 [Survival Cooking — Level 1 (0/5)]
Type: Passive
Description: Because saving the world and devouring souls is no excuse to eat slop. Your dishes now receive a +50% flavor enhancement, and the risk of food poisoning has been reduced to zero.
"Seriously?" Daniel raised an eyebrow as he stared at the interface. "It took you long enough to give me this. I thought my flawless egg-flipping technique was already worthy of a divine award."
[Your attempts at cooking were dangerously close to unlocking the Toxic Smoke skill.]
Daniel snorted. "Shut up and let me cook." He knew the System was exaggerating.
He finished preparing the meal and tasted a piece of bacon. The texture was perfect, crisp without being dry, and the flavor was far more intense than it should have been.
"Well. It doesn't make my clothes explode, but it's a start," he muttered to himself, recalling a certain anime.
Once everything was ready, Daniel carried the tray toward the master suite. Julie was still asleep beneath the sheets.
He placed the tray on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through her tousled hair.
"Room service."
Julie slowly opened her eyes, blinking several times as she adjusted to the room's soft lighting. The aroma of the food seemed to chase away the last traces of sleep, while a quiet growl from her stomach betrayed her hunger before she could say a word.
She sat up, pulling the sheet higher around herself as she grabbed a piece of pancake with her fingers. The moment she tasted it, her pupils widened.
"You made this?"
"I did."
Julie chewed more slowly, surprised by the result.
"My God, Dan. This is incredible."
"Courtesy of my newest skill." Daniel leaned back against the headboard with a smug smile. "The System finally recognized my hidden talent."
Julie laughed and shook her head. "You're so full of yourself."
"Eat up." Daniel ran a hand through her hair. "After breakfast, you'll do your daily mission, and then we'll train. The world outside is still trying to kill us, after all, and I don't tolerate weakness on my team."
Julie grabbed another piece of bacon and bit into it with an amused expression.
"You're a ruthless executioner."
"And you love me anyway."
He winked at her, earning another laugh.
…
Boyd stopped by the stairs, took a deep breath, and then headed up. When he reached the upper floor, he found Ellis's bedroom door open.
Fatima was sitting on the edge of the bed, while Ellis remained near the window, focused on the sketchbook resting on his lap.
The sheriff knocked lightly on the doorframe before stepping inside, but only Fatima greeted him.
"How's your foot?"
"Better." Ellis returned his attention to the paper, making it clear he had no intention of prolonging the conversation.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to make every small movement feel uncomfortable.
Fatima watched the two men, sensing the tension.
Boyd, for his part, hadn't come up there to talk about injuries.
"There's a cave in the woods," he finally said. "I'm going inside."
Ellis's pen stopped in the middle of a stroke. He slowly raised his head, the indifference in his expression giving way to confusion.
"The one they talked about on the radio?"
"I don't know for sure. That's exactly what I'm going to find out."
Fatima stood caught between two conflicting desires. She wanted the cave to be a way out, a chance to finally return to the world they had left behind, yet another part of her wasn't sure she wanted to go back anymore, not after everything that had happened to them in this place.
"Isn't that too dangerous? You don't even know what's inside."
"It's a risk I need to take." The sheriff looked at her before turning his attention back to Ellis. "If the information is true and there's a way out, we might finally be able to get everyone out of here."
"Who's going with you?" Ellis asked.
"Nobody. I'm going alone."
Fatima let out a startled breath.
"Alone? Wouldn't it be better to take a group? A few armed people would have a much better chance of dealing with whatever shows up."
"No." Boyd answered without hesitation. "It's better if I go in first. I have more experience, and I know what to look for. If I take a group into an unknown place, all it takes is one person to panic and put everyone in danger. I'm not going to risk more lives without even knowing what's in there."
Ellis let out a short laugh devoid of any humor.
"Typical." He set the pen down on the sketchbook. "Last time you went into the woods looking for answers all by yourself, it didn't exactly end well, did it?"
The mention of Abby hit Boyd like a blow. For a moment, the room seemed to disappear. He was back on that day again, carrying the weight of his guilt for failing to realize how badly his wife's mind had deteriorated, and the agony of being forced to shoot her.
"Hey." Fatima's reprimand came immediately.
Boyd remained motionless for a moment. His hands slowly clenched at his sides as he fought to push the memories back where they belonged.
When he finally spoke, his voice was controlled, though quieter than before.
"Fatima, could you give us a minute? I need some time alone with him."
She hesitated for a second but nodded. Before leaving, she gently touched Ellis's shoulder and then closed the door behind her.
With no one else in the room, father and son stood facing each other.
Ellis crossed his arms, waiting for what was coming, while Boyd took a deep breath, as if he needed to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"If you want to take your anger out on me, that's fine. I can take it." He paused briefly. "But I'm going to tell you something, and you're going to listen whether you want to or not."
Ellis raised his chin, maintaining his defiant posture. "Go ahead."
Boyd held his gaze.
"You're my son." His voice faltered, but he continued. "My son. And I love you. I'm so proud of the man you've become, and there isn't a single day when that isn't true. Do you understand?"
The sheriff's eyes began to glisten, and he turned his face away before the tears could fall. For years, Boyd had learned to hide fear, pain, and exhaustion behind the responsibility of keeping those people alive.
In that moment, however, the armor he'd worn as a leader finally showed a crack he couldn't hide.
Ellis felt his chest tighten. He wanted to answer, but he couldn't find the words. There was something about the way his father was speaking that unsettled him deeply, as if he were trying to say far more than those few sentences allowed. Why did this sound like a goodbye?
It was just a cave, unknown and dangerous perhaps, but nothing that Ellis believed justified such a farewell.
Ellis had no idea what the ruins looked like. He also knew nothing about the degenerative disease silently advancing through his father's body.
Without waiting for an answer he suspected might never come, Boyd left the room.
A few seconds later, the door opened again. Fatima stepped back inside. She had remained in the hallway and made no effort to hide the fact that she'd heard the entire conversation.
"You can be angry with me, but I need to say something."
Ellis didn't answer. His eyes returned to the window, avoiding hers.
"What happened wasn't your father's fault." Fatima's voice remained gentle but firm. "And it wasn't your fault either. It was this place."
"I wasn't there, and I didn't see what happened. But I know your father. If there had been anything he could have done differently, he would have done it."
Ellis's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
"What happened was horrible. It left you with an enormous amount of anger, and that anger needs somewhere to go." Fatima placed her hand over his. "Your father let you take all of that anger out on him this entire time because that's what a father does. He takes it when his son can't deal with his own pain."
"But have you ever stopped to think about how that day destroyed him too?"
Ellis finally pulled his eyes away from the window. Something wavered in the young man's expression.
"If, God forbid, something happens to him..." Fatima tightened her grip on his hand. "And you haven't said what you need to say beforehand, you'll carry that regret for the rest of your life. And I don't want to see that happen to you."
...
The bus remained parked near the entrance to town, motionless beneath the morning light.
Dilan crossed the street quickly until he found Randall sitting on the steps by the door.
The newcomer was sharpening a thin sliver of wood with a pocketknife, his closed-off expression unchanged from the moment he'd arrived in town.
"Hey." Dilan stopped a few feet away. "We're putting together teams at Colony House to search for that cave mentioned on the radio. You want to come with us?"
Randall stopped sharpening the wood. He studied Dilan for several seconds before answering.
"I'm in. But before we go playing explorer, do you know what the hell that noise was last night? Sounded like a bomb."
A faint smile appeared on Dilan's face. The question had opened exactly the door he needed.
"Donna told everyone at the house. The sheriff killed two of those creatures last night. Used a grenade and Molotov cocktails."
Randall went still. "He killed two?"
"That's what they're saying."
A dangerous glint appeared in Randall's eyes. So fire is their weakness, he thought. "Where are the bodies?"
"At the station. Donna said anyone can go take a look."
Randall closed the pocketknife and slipped it into his pocket. "Let's go."
He descended the steps and started walking beside Dilan. Along the way, the man explained how Boyd had lured the creatures out and used fire to destroy them.
Partway there, Dilan dropped the next statement as though he had just remembered something unimportant.
"There's something strange about all this."
"What?" Randall asked.
"Donna mentioned that the one who first figured out how to kill these things wasn't the sheriff." Dilan paused briefly. "It was Daniel. He killed one of them first. Boyd just repeated the method afterward."
Randall narrowed his eyes. "So the grenade came from the sheriff?"
"No idea." Dilan kept walking as though the subject barely mattered. "Donna wouldn't say where the explosives came from."
Randall didn't respond.
Dilan didn't press him either. He didn't need to. The idea had already taken root in the newcomer's mind.
The pieces began falling into place in Randall's mind, forming a distorted picture of power, hidden weapons, and conspiracies within the cursed town. Whatever this place was, Randall had no intention of staying at the bottom of its food chain.
========================================
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