Chapter 67

Chapter 67
The road out of Hollow Creek’s Civic Hall was a ribbon of cracked asphalt that wound through silent neighborhoods before spilling into the dark stretch of Highway 9. Nathan kept his headlights low, glancing in the rearview every few seconds. His nerves still hummed from what they’d seen at the Hall—the crates, the masks, Pierce’s face illuminated in that sliver of light.

Beside him, Marlene sat rigid, her arms crossed tightly as though trying to hold herself together. The camera with Nathan’s precious shots rested in her lap, the strap wrapped around her wrist like a lifeline. Neither of them spoke. Silence felt safer.

It wasn’t until Nathan merged onto the highway that he noticed it: a pair of headlights sliding onto the road a hundred yards back, too steady, too deliberate.

At first, he said nothing. He slowed fractionally. The lights slowed, too. He sped up. The lights held pace.

Nathan’s stomach tightened. He adjusted the mirror, squinting into the glare. A black sedan. Clean. No logos. Government-issue blandness.

His throat went dry. “We’ve got company.”

Marlene’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Don’t look,” he muttered, though he knew it was pointless—anyone trailing them already knew they were aware. “Black sedan. Been with us since we left the Hall.”

Marlene’s breath hitched. “Nathan—”

“I know.” He kept his hands steady on the wheel, though his knuckles whitened with pressure. “Could be coincidence.”

“Do you believe that?”

Nathan didn’t answer.

The highway stretched ahead, empty save for the glow of their headlights bouncing against cracked pavement. Woods pressed close on either side, the skeletal shapes of trees swaying in the wind. A perfect place for someone to vanish.

He tried something subtle: he flicked on his blinker, took the next exit ramp, a winding road that led toward the old industrial district. The sedan followed without hesitation.

“Damn it,” Nathan muttered under his breath. His pulse hammered. “They’re on us.”

Marlene gripped the camera tighter. “What do we do?”

Nathan scanned the road, searching for options. He couldn’t lead whoever it was back to his place—not with the case files, the evidence, the boys’ safety at stake. He needed to shake them now.

An idea came to him, risky and reckless, but better than being boxed in on open road. Up ahead, just past a sagging billboard advertising a shuttered diner, an old mining road branched off, little more than gravel and mud. Locals avoided it—the ground was unstable, prone to sudden sinkholes—but Nathan had driven it before as a teenager when looking for places to drink unseen. It twisted through dense woods, doubling back on itself, an easy place to vanish if you knew the turns.

He flicked his blinker again, feigning casualness, then at the last second jerked the wheel hard right, the tires screaming as the car skidded onto the mining road.

Gravel spat up behind them. The suspension groaned as the sedan bounced after them.

“Hold on!” Nathan barked.

Marlene braced herself against the dash as the car jolted over ruts. Branches clawed at the sides, scratching paint. Nathan pushed the accelerator, tires fishtailing, headlights swinging wildly across the trees.

The sedan kept coming.

“They’re not backing off!” Marlene shouted.

“They will,” Nathan gritted out. He took a sharp left at a fork, then immediately killed the headlights. The car plunged into darkness, swallowed by the forest.

Marlene gasped. “Nathan—”

“Quiet.”

He eased the car to the shoulder, coasting on momentum until they came to a stop behind a thick stand of pines. His hands shook with adrenaline as he cut the engine. For a moment, there was nothing but their ragged breathing.

Then—headlights blazed past the fork, the sedan roaring down the opposite path. The sound of its engine echoed through the woods, fading into the distance.

Nathan didn’t breathe until silence returned. He glanced at Marlene. Her face was pale, sweat glistening at her temple. She clutched the camera like it was a weapon.

“Think we lost them,” Nathan whispered.

She swallowed hard. “You sure?”

“Not even close.”

For a few minutes, they sat in the dark, listening. An owl hooted somewhere deeper in the woods. The air smelled of damp leaves and gasoline.

Finally, Nathan restarted the engine, keeping the lights off, creeping forward slowly until the road curved back toward the highway. Only when they were clear did he switch the beams on again.

Marlene let out a shaky laugh. “Jesus, Nathan. You’re going to get us killed.”

“Better than delivered,” he muttered.

She didn’t argue.

But the question hung heavy between them: who had been driving?

Nathan kept replaying the moments before the fork, his last glimpse in the mirror. A flash of a face, illuminated by dashboard glow. Broad shoulders. Uniform collar.

It hit him like ice water down his spine.

“Grady’s deputy,” Nathan said softly, almost to himself.

Marlene’s head whipped toward him. “What?”

“I saw him. The driver. It was Sheriff Grady’s man—Deputy Calloway. Couldn’t mistake him. He’s been with Grady for years.”

Marlene’s mouth dropped open. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

The implications settled over them like a suffocating blanket. The Civic Hall crates. Pierce in a mask. Now Grady’s deputy tailing them. It wasn’t just the Council’s shadows anymore. Law enforcement was actively running protection. Watching. Controlling.

Marlene shook her head, almost laughing, but there was no humor in it. “How deep does this go, Nathan? Is there anyone in this town not part of it?”

Nathan didn’t answer. He stared hard at the road ahead, the steering wheel vibrating faintly beneath his hands.

What chilled him most wasn’t that the deputy had been trailing them. It was that the pursuit hadn’t been meant to scare them. It had been surgical, methodical. Whoever was giving orders wasn’t improvising. They were following a plan.

Nathan pressed the gas harder, needing distance, space to think. He couldn’t shake the image of Calloway’s face behind the wheel, calm, almost bored. This wasn’t a chase for him—it was a job.

And jobs had conclusions.

Marlene finally broke the silence. “We can’t go home.”

“I know.”

“They’ll be watching.”

“I know.”

Her voice trembled but stayed firm. “So what now?”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. The crates, the masked men, the tail—it all pointed to one thing: the Council wasn’t preparing in secret anymore. They were mobilizing.

And anyone in their way would disappear.

He glanced at Marlene, her hair falling loose around her face, eyes shining with fear and defiance. She deserved safety. But there was none left to give.

“We go dark,” Nathan said finally. “Different routes. Different places. No routines. If Grady’s boys want to watch me, they’ll get a damn show. But they won’t see the truth coming.”

Marlene studied him, then nodded once. She clutched the camera tighter. “Then we fight smarter.”

The car carried them deeper into the night, both of them aware of the weight of what they’d seen, of the eyes that were now fixed on them.

The Civic Hall wasn’t just hiding crates. It was hiding war preparations. And now, Sheriff Grady’s deputies weren’t peacekeepers. They were soldiers.

As the miles passed, Nathan thought of his brother’s final message: One of the boys is the key. Save him, and you stop them.

He glanced in the mirror again, half expecting to see those headlights reappear.

Not tonight. But soon.

And next time, Calloway wouldn’t miss.