Chapter 162: Madeline
The wind is a living thing—shoving, tearing, screaming like it’s trying to claw through our bones. I can barely keep my feet under me. It’s like every step forward is a war I’m losing.
We’re all holding hands. Finn and Liam are in the front, then Sloane, then Charlie... then me, dead last, clutching Charlie’s hand like it’s the only anchor I have left in this chaos.
The road is invisible—no streetlights, no moon, just black everywhere. Every sound is either the wind roaring, the rain pelting like bullets against my skin, or someone stumbling in front of me, cussing under their breath. We left the house because we had no choice. First, the power cut out. Then the backup heater didn’t work. Then the window exploded like a shotgun and the cold that poured in felt like it had teeth.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The worst part was earlier.
When the lights first went out, I thought... God, I thought it was him. I thought he came for me. I thought he found me again.
That voice in the dark, screaming my name—just like before. The bang on the door. The sudden silence that came after.
I lost it. I really, really lost it.
I screamed. Kicked. Fought like my life depended on it.
And I regret it—now that I know who it really was. But in that moment? I was back in that dorm, paralyzed by that same familiar terror. Until Charlie stormed in and slammed the door shut and said, “It’s not him. He’s not here. You’re safe.”
She got through to me. Somehow. She stayed while I shook and sobbed and forgot how to breathe. I’m so damn grateful I told her about my past, about him. Because she knew what to do. She knew how to pull me out of that.
But now I’m slipping again.
I can barely walk. My legs are soaked, numb. My fingers are frozen. I’m clinging to Charlie, my head down against the stinging rain—and then I hear her voice, too late—
“Careful!”
A branch comes flying out of nowhere, smacking me across the ribs so hard the air punches out of my lungs. I hit the ground hard, knees first, landing in a cold, muddy puddle. I try to breathe, but I can’t. My chest tightens. I can’t pull in air. It hurts. Everything hurts.
“Madeline!” I hear Liam’s voice, panicked, and then his hands are on me, lifting me up.
My legs don’t work right. My head is spinning. But I clutch his arm and nod, trying to show him I’m okay even though I know I’m absolutely not.
This storm doesn’t feel survivable.
But we keep moving—because there’s no other choice.
There are trees everywhere. Not just swaying or creaking—but fallen. Uprooted. Blocking streets and crashing into fences and driveways. Trash bins go tumbling down the sidewalks like they’re in a race, their contents flying in the air. Signs rattle. Power lines swing dangerously. It’s chaos. Like the storm decided to rip the world apart and start over.
And it’s so cold.
My teeth are chattering so violently I’m scared I might bite my tongue off. My soaked clothes cling to my skin like ice packs, and my fingers are so numb I can barely hold onto Charlie’s hand.
Even the boys—Finn and Liam, who seem to never run out of energy—are dragging their feet now. Shoulders hunched, breath heaving. Sloane’s right behind them, arms crossed tight over her chest. We all end up staggering to a stop against the brick wall of the grocery store. It's the only structure solid enough to lean on without fear of it toppling over.
Our heads are bowed, trying to shield our faces from the biting wind. My hood is plastered to my head, but it doesn’t help much. Nothing does.
It was Charlie’s idea to try for the other SWMRI house after the window shattered and the cold turned unbearable. We agreed—there was no way we could stay. Not with our backup heater broken. Not when our breath was visible in front of us, like we were camping in a snowstorm instead of surviving summer.
Summer. Right. Atlantic Canada’s idea of summer is a joke.
Charlie’s hand tightens in mine—and then she breaks.
She starts crying. Big, frustrated sobs that shake her whole body as she presses her forehead against the brick wall.
“I can’t…” she says between sobs. “The house is still so far. How are we even supposed to make it?”
I don’t know what to say. Because she’s right. We’re halfway there—maybe less—and the wind is only getting worse. The sky is black, and the rain is relentless. I can’t feel my legs anymore.
Finn steps forward, grabs Charlie and pulls her into his chest.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but steady. “We’re fine. We’re gonna be fine. It’s just a little more. We’re already out here. We keep going. Just a little more, Char.”
She’s clinging to him, still sobbing.
I lean back against the wall and look down the street, blinking against the water in my eyes, against the sting of it all. We’ve come this far. We have to keep going. But I don’t know how much more our bodies can take.
And worst of all… that panic from earlier still clings to me. I keep looking over my shoulder, half-expecting to see him walking out of the dark.
I try not to shiver harder.
Just a little more.
Please let it only be a little more.
We start moving again.
Slow. Pained. Every step feels like I’m dragging weights behind me. My ribs ache—throb—with every breath, the lingering pain from that branch that slammed into me earlier. I try to ignore it, try to breathe shallow so it doesn’t hurt so much, but the cold air makes even that feel like swallowing glass.
Charlie sniffles beside me. She’s still crying, quietly now, but the sound of it cuts deeper than the wind. Liam’s cussing under his breath every few seconds, and Finn’s hunched, one arm around Charlie like he’s trying to block the wind from hitting her full-on.
We’re all shaking. Miserable. Defeated.
Then—
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Loud.
Running.
At first, I think I imagined it. The rain’s been so constant it’s like white noise, and I’m starting to lose track of what’s real and what’s in my head. But then I hear it again.
Thud. Thud. THUD.
Fast.
Hard.
Getting closer.
I freeze. So do the others. Even Finn and Liam stop. Heads turning. Charlie’s hand grips mine like a vice.
“What… the hell…” Liam mutters.
We all spin, searching through the dark. Nothing. It’s pitch black, no street lights, no moon, just the rain and the scream of the wind—
And then—
Two figures break through the black.
Big.
Tall.
Strong shoulders barreling through the wind like it’s nothing.
I blink the rain out of my eyes, heart pounding in my ears—
And then I recognize the way one of them runs. The way the other one holds his arms close to his sides like he's fighting every instinct to move faster.
My knees nearly give out.
Jake. Reid.
They found us.
They came.