Lincoln Cole

Dominick slipped through the town, slow and quiet, and listened for any sound of movement around the area. They didn’t know where, or if, Nida might have posted guards but wanted to stay ready for anything.

Marcus half-carried, half-dragged Lucas down the hallway deeper into the power station, desperately searching for any sign of an exit. The sizzling, bubbling mass of ooze continued its relentless pursuit, gaining ground with each passing second.

The road appeared completely quiet as they drove toward the old campgrounds an hour outside of Raven’s Peak. It held a strong sense of déjà vu for Abigail and her first trip out here with Haatim.

Haatim leaned against the window as they drove down the freeway. Frieda and Dominick sat in the backseat, so quiet that he glanced over to check on them and make sure they hadn’t fallen asleep.

"What about the fist?" "The what?" Marcus asked.

The air sucked out of Abigail’s lungs, and the world spun. “What?”

Mitchell’s shop looked the same as Abigail remembered from a few weeks earlier. From the first time that she’d even known Mitchell existed—something that both Frieda and Arthur had kept from her for her entire life.

Haatim. The word hit him like a tornado, popping up in the middle of nowhere. It ripped through his mind, and an intense feeling of confusion hit him when he tried to understand.

The team burst through the tunnel entrance, slamming the heavy door shut behind them. They leaned against it, gasping for breath as the screeches and flapping of the winged creatures faded into the distance.