“Hayes, you’re acting really weird.”
“Al, please. This is important.”
Something in his eyes makes my stomach drop.
I swallow.
“If you go, I go. Right?”
He holds my gaze a second longer, like he’s sealing an invisible oath between us.
“Good.” He exhales, relieved, and laces our fingers together. “Then follow me.”
Hayes leads me out the front door of his parents’ house while Argyros trots behind us, silent and alert, ears pricked. We descend the stone steps and emerge into the thick night air, passing beneath the flickering porch lights and down the illuminated drive until we reach the edge of the estate. That’s where the pristine landscaping ends and the wild begins. A forest of fir trees rises ahead, dense and looming, their branches tangling in the night sky.
Hayes stops and switches on the flashlight on his phone, casting a narrow beam into the woods.
“Uh… what are we doing?” I ask, glancing around skeptically. “You sure Amber’s outhere?”
My sister is many things, but outdoorsy isn’t one of them. The idea of her voluntarily wandering through trees in the dark? Not exactly on brand.
“Just keep going,” Hayes says, placing a steady hand on the small of my back, nudging me forward.
My nerves hum as we cross the final pool of light on the property and step into the shadows. Behind us, the glow of the gas lamps fades, swallowed by the trees. It’s nearly pitch-black now. Still, Hayes walks on like he knows exactly where he’s going, like he’s done this a hundred times before.
The air shifts as we enter the forest. Colder. Heavier.Laced with moss, loam, and something sharper, almost metallic, like ozone before a storm. Gravel crunches beneath my shoes, twigs snapping underfoot.
“It’s not much further. We’re almost there.”
“Okay…” I carefully pick my way over jutting roots and slick stones, staying close to his side. “But, uh, where isthere, exactly?”
“Relax, Al. Just trust me.”
He pushes forward, and I have no choice but to follow.
We go a few more yards, and then he stops so suddenly, I nearly collide with him.
“Hayes?”
No answer.
He just stands there, perfectly still, like he’s waiting for something. Beside us, Argyros freezes too. I glance down at the dog, puzzled. His ears are up. Tail rigid. Not a twitch of movement.
“Argy?”
The dog doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even breathe.
“He’ll be fine,” Hayes says, but his voice isn’t exactly steady as he watches Argyros. “He knows what to do.”
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “What does that even mean? He’s a dog, Hayes. What exactly is he supposed to do?”
He swallows, hard, muscles tightening like he’s bracing for impact.
“Al…” My name comes out rough. Almost guilty. “There’s something I should’ve told you. About Argyros.” Aflicker of regret crosses his face. “He’s not what you think,” he says. “He’s?—”
Click.
The sound slices through the trees. A low mechanical whir rises from beneath us, like some ancient engine grinding awake after centuries of sleep. It starts deep and slow, but builds fast. Louder. Sharper. Like it’s waking from the dead.
