VEE

Following a greasy breakfast at the motorway cafe, enjoyed by the boys and not so much by me, we head back to the old hall where Seth and Casey agreed to wait for us. Seth assured me he’d wait, aware now the Horsemen know who he is that disappearing isn’t a permanent option. Where do things go from here? I’m caught in the middle and pray the two sides can form an alliance. I explained to Xander they’ve concrete information on the creatures who attacked us, and he agrees to listen.

"Should I call them first?" I ask Xander as we follow the motorway back to the town.

"No. I’m not warning them we're coming."

"Xander, if they were going to bugger off, they would've done that last night," Joss reminds him.

“I’m sure they’re sensible enough to hang around,” he replies gruffly.

Nerves grow as the grey day speeds past the car window, and my cheeks heat at memories from sex with Xander. This morning, I have a vague memory of a kiss from Xander before he climbed from the bed, and when I woke properly he was dressed and holding a conversation with his brother on the phone. Did Joss see us share a bed? Xander’s switch back to focusing on the matter in hand isn’t a surprise.

Heath and Ewan are still at the guys—our—place and have nothing to report; at least something’s calm. I’m eager to return and regroup because I face new challenges when the day’s hardly started.

We drive through the quiet town to the outskirts where the hall’s located. On this sleepy Sunday morning sensible people stay in bed, especially in this weather. I step out of the car, grumbling as rain splotches onto my head, and take quick steps towards the door. I knock and the guys hang back. No response. Xander approaches to knock louder.

"Wait before you make one of your stunning entrances this time," I suggest.

Xander pulls a face, but he's calmer today. How much tension did he unleash last night? The others said, in the past, he’s the one who hooks up with girls the most regularly. Now I know why.

He knocks too. No answer.

Xander's tension ticks up as he straightens, jaw stiffening. "I fucking knew it!"

I wrap my fingers around his. "Calm down."

Joss steps forwards and interrupts. “Can you smell that?” He moves his face closer to the door and inhales. “Something’s burning. I thought it was winter bonfires but—”

"Fuck this." Xander yanks on the handle as he shoves open the door, the locks no match for his strength.

I follow Xander through and straight into chaos.

This looks nothing like the place I walked into yesterday.

The computers are missing and the filing cabinet is pushed onto the floor, drawers open, broken and empty. Black scorch marks cover the walls, and the burnt-paper smell pervades the room. In a nearby wastepaper bin, blackened manila folders and papers are piled and charred, the flames dying down as the fire runs short on fuel.

“Holy shit!” calls Joss. “The whole place could’ve burnt down.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” replies Xander.

There's no gasoline smell, just the stench from the paper. If somebody had wanted to destroy the hall and everything in it, they could’ve fuelled this fire better.

But they didn’t.

If we’d arrived later, the whole hall could’ve been ablaze, but this destruction is recent.

An all too familiar sight glares at me from the opposite wall. Red letters. I approach and heave relief when I see they’re spray-painted and not blood:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre.

The photographs taped to the wall underneath switch off that relief.

Witnessing a body butchered outside the house sickened me, but the corpse’s inhuman look placed a distance between the horror and reality. Xander pulls a Polaroid image from the wall. A girl’s face, eyes open in terror, blood pooled around her head. Casey. This photo unleashes something nothing else has managed since this whole nightmare started.

I push past Joss and stumble into the rain, unable to run far on my shaking legs before the greasy breakfast pushes upwards. I grab onto the tree trunk beside Joss’s car and, as the rain flows onto me, I vomit.

Sinking onto the ground, I hug my knees to my chest and bury my face into the material as rain flattens my hair and mingles with tears.

I can't do this anymore.

* * *