Chapter 55
Nathan sat on the porch steps of the family cabin, staring at the woods, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
The trees whispered.
Wind shifted like it knew things.
In his hand, he held the last photo of Jace—his face in shadow, being loaded into the transport van.
Gone.
Gone like Elijah's father.
Gone like Judge Royce.
Gone like his sister.
The fire always took them in silence.
And the Circle? It kept smiling.
A twig cracked behind him.
Nathan didn’t flinch. He didn’t need to look.
“I told you to stay in Atlanta.”
Marlene’s voice came softly behind him. “And since when do you get to order me around?”
He turned.
She stood on the gravel, arms crossed, a small duffel bag at her feet, face streaked with sweat and road dust—but her eyes steady.
“Do you even know what they’ll do to you?” he asked.
“I know exactly what they’ll do to you if you keep trying to fight them alone.”
“I’m not a child, Marlene—”
“And I’m not a little girl you have to protect.”
He stood up, angry, exhausted. “You were safe.”
“Safe isn’t the same as free.” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t back down. “They killed my dad, Uncle Nate. They tried to take Jace. They’re coming for all of us. If I’m going to be scared, I’d rather be scared standing next to you than hiding behind you.”
Nathan opened his mouth.
Then shut it.
Because in her eyes, he saw something he hadn’t seen in weeks.
Resolve.
Not anger. Not fear.
Fire.
“You’re your father’s daughter,” he muttered.
She stepped closer. “And yours, if you’d stop trying to shoulder the apocalypse on your own.”
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Not the kid he once took to get ice cream when she scraped her knee. Not the teenager who stopped calling after her father died.
But the young woman who had dug up tapes, followed leads, and refused to be cowed by men in masks.
“You left the city,” he said. “You were safe. You had a chance to start fresh.”
“I’m not leaving this story unfinished,” she said. “And I’m not leaving you.”
Nathan’s voice was hoarse. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Then let’s be dangerous right back.”
Inside the cabin, Marlene dropped her bag and unpacked quickly.
She pulled out her laptop, two external hard drives, and a tattered folder of photos and notes.
“I backed up everything,” she said. “And I’ve been tracking the financial records you sent. The Circle’s using shell companies to funnel cash into what looks like an old property trust.”
“Where?”
“Edge of town. Near the lake. Registered under something called ‘Sons of Ember LLC.’”
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Subtle.”
Marlene smirked. “They’re not trying to hide anymore. They think they’ve already won.”
Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “Jace is being transferred to that site. I’m sure of it now. Not a state facility. A holding site. Ritual prep.”
“Then we go get him.”
He looked at her, incredulous. “Marlene—”
“No speeches.” She pulled out a burner phone. “I’ve got a guy. He’s ex-IT security. Owes me a favor. He’s going to tap into local feeds. Traffic cams. GPS from the van if we’re lucky.”
Nathan blinked. “You’ve been busy.”
“You think I sat around in Atlanta crocheting and sipping tea?”
He laughed once—short, broken—but real.
She smiled.
“God, I missed that sound,” she said.
He looked at her, eyes softer now.
“I thought I had to protect you.”
“You did,” she said. “And now it’s my turn.”
Night fell.
The laptop glowed on the cabin table, showing a blinking red dot heading toward an unlisted road near the lake.
“Bingo,” Marlene said. “That’s our van.”
Nathan nodded.
Wren arrived not long after, eyes wide when he saw her.
“You brought the cavalry,” he said to Nathan.
“More like the general,” Nathan said.
Marlene grinned. “Don’t let the ponytail fool you.”
They leaned over the map together.
One road in.
Forest all around.
No marked trail.
No cameras.
Perfect for secrecy.
Perfect for sacrifice.
“We’ll go at dawn,” Nathan said.
Marlene nodded. “Then let’s bring the fire.”