Chapter 26 The Leak
They drove through the morning, the dense forest canopy swallowing the sky above them. The “road” had long since vanished, replaced by deer trails and rocky inclines that would have snapped a normal axel in half.
They snacked on the dried fruit and protein bars Damon had packed, passing them back and forth as the cab rocked and swayed. Finnegan hadn’t been joking about the climbing; they had already had to stop and wrap the winch around a massive oak tree to haul the truck up a muddy, slick embankment.
But the Mountain Climber was a beast.
When they reached a rushing mountain stream–the water white and frothing over jagged rocks–Finnegan didn’t even tap the brakes.
“Hold on,” he warned.
He shifted gears and plunged the truck into the water. The current slammed against the doors, rising halfway up the wheels, but the vehicle didn’t budge. It tore through the riverbed like it was dry asphalt, the tires gripping the slippery stones with ease, climbing up the opposite bank with a spray of mud and water.
“Show off,” Leela muttered, though she was gripping the “oh, shit” handle tightly.
Finnegan grinned. “She likes to swim.”
Around noon, they reached a small plateau overlooking a valley of unbroken green.
“Halfway point,” Finnegan announced, killing the engine. “Let’s eat.”
The sudden silence of the engine ringing in their ears, they sat on the tailgate of the truck, eating Damon’s slightly squashed sandwiches.
Leela chewed slowly, her brow furrowed. She set her sandwich down and pressed her hand flat against the metal bed of the truck.
“Do you feel that?” she asked.
Finnegan stopped chewing. “Feel what? The wind?”
“No,” Leela said, looking down at her hands. “It’s…a vibration. A low, steady hum. It started about an hour ago, but it’s getting stronger.”
Finnegan frowned. He hopped off the tailgate and touched the ground, then the truck tires.
“It might just be the after-shocks of the ride,” he suggested, looking at her with concern. “We’ve been bouncing around like rocks in a tin can for four hours. Your inner ear is probably just rattled.”
He pointed to her neck.
“You shouldn’t be feeling anything else. The Earth Stone is still locked. It’s supposed to be a dead zone.”
Leela reached up and touched the iron collar. The stone was still cold, still heavy. But beneath it, deep in the marrow of her bones, she felt a faint, rhythmic thrumming. It wasn’t the chaotic noise of the town or the frantic energy of the garden. It was deeper. Older.
“I don’t think it’s the truck, Finnegan,” she said quietly.
She looked out toward the dense treeline ahead of them.
“I think the quiet in my head is…just a little less quiet. It feels like something is leaking through.”
Finnegan followed her gaze into the deep woods. His expression darkened.
“If you can feel it through grandmother’s stone,” he said, his voice low, “then the energy in the Grove is stronger than I remember.”
He packed the rest of the lunch away quickly.
“We need to keep moving. If it’s calling to you this far out, we need to get there before it starts shouting.”