Chapter 107
- Duke -
James clicked off the television.
The room stayed still, heavy with unease. We sat crammed in the apartment above the bakery, eyes wide, hearts sunk. What we'd just seen on the screen wasn't just news—it was confirmation. We were sealed in. The broadcast said it plainly: the dome was part of something larger, something globally acknowledged but locally denied. No one could get out. No one could come in.
The Waymakers exchanged a look—none of them spoke, but the unspoken agreement was there.
A new challenge.
A new set of rules.
A reset, if you will.
Uncle nodded, slow and solemn. He sat in his worn chair by the window, the rising sun creeping in behind him like an omen.
"You all go," he said. "Let me know what you find out."
He rose, pulling on his coat. "I'll be at the new sanctuary—the shelter for the misplaced. With all this madness, people are going to slip through the cracks. I won't let that happen. When I was at my lowest—after my daughter was taken—it was these streets, these people, that kept me alive. They didn't turn their backs on me, even when I had nothing left. Now it's my turn to protect them."
They wouldn't let this city fall. Not while Uncle still stood between it and the darkness.
Josh's brow tightened. "You're not coming with us?"
Uncle shook his head. "It's best I stay away from the governor for now. We don't need to add more history clouding reason. But you all… You still have a shot."
"I'll go in your place," I offered. "The kids will need someone more diplomatic to reason with him. If this is part of the governor's game, he needs to know we're not playing."
Uncle's eyes met mine, and he gave a firm, respectable nod. "Be careful."
"Not to worry, I always am."
Micah gave her uncle a goodbye hug. "We'll come back with answers."
Uncle gave a small, tired smile, then turned to leave. "And I'll do what I can from ground zero to help anyone needing help, including our friends and family." He looked back once more, leaving out of sight. "As said before, we may be the only hope here, right? Don't let your light go out."
Dawn cast a pale blue light across the city streets, painting shadows long and soft—but even in that calm glow. The city pulsed with tension as we walked to the hotel in the early morning haze. This allowed us to overhear bits and pieces of people talking more and more about how no one is able to leave the city.
When we reached the hotel, chaos was impossible to ignore. A mob of civilians pressed against yellow barricades, shouting toward the high-rise windows. Some waved signs; others just screamed, voices cracking.
- Civilians -
Civilian 1 Woman: "Where is the mayor? The governor? Anyone? We need answers. Power is off everywhere."
Civilian 2 Male: "What is this dome thing...Why are we trapped here? They said this would be resolved by now, but it's not."
Civilian 3 Older Woman: "My husband was delivering packages late last night. I am unable to contact him... What do you have to say for yourselves? Aren't you the ones in charge?"
Stories poured from the crowd—night-shift workers who never came home, nurses stranded mid-route, and delivery drivers gone silent. Someone swore they'd seen a school bus roll in before the dome locked shut—no word since.
It wasn't just us.
It never was.
"Too many people," Kaysi muttered beside me. "We're never getting through that crowd."
"Then we're not going through," I told her. "We go around."
We slipped down the back streets into the service entrance. The hotel smelled of stale musk and dust—old money. It was a scent I remembered from another life, one the others knew nothing about. The place was trying hard to hide its age, but under the cologne and polish, I could still feel the bones of the building—likely built in the early 1800s, remodeled and refitted again and again, but never young. The carpet held the damp weight of last night's cleaning, and the portraits lining the walls showed former owners with faces that had never heard the word no.
James and Josh kept to the camera blind spots, mapping our moves in silence. Becky, all charm and impatience, staged a loud argument over lost luggage to pull the lobby staff's attention. Kaysi found some clothing in one of the employees' closets and slid it over top of hers—dressed like hotel personnel, swiping us into the stairwell without a word.
When we reached the governor's suite, Josh muttered, "Two guards posted."
I stepped forward. "There's a story about another important man who had two guards surrounding him. Do you remember what the angel did then?"
I stalked up to the guards and met the first guard's eyes.
Guard 1: "Hey, you can't..."
"Sleep!"
He collapsed without resistance, my voice sinking into his mind like a stone through water. The second guard lunged, weapon half-raised. I caught the barrel, twisted it away, and drove a sharp strike into his neck.
"And you sleep as well."
Evan chuckled softly. "Good move on the first. Less as subtle on the second."
The door burst open from the noise. The governor stood there, startled, halfway through a question before I shoved him back inside.
"Shhh... Relax... You guys get in and shut and lock the door."
My voice low and calm, "We aren't here to hurt you, but we aren't chasing shadows anymore. We need answers.
Now, I am going to let you go. Don't scream or run; you're outnumbered, regardless of whether I was by myself."
He played it well—wide eyes, breath quickening, but there was a missing twinkle of fear in them. He looked way out the window, playing the part for a dramatic show. "Look, damn it, if this is about the dome. I am not behind this. I've got a wife and daughter out there. I can't reach them. What do you think this is my 'doing'?"
He darted his gaze.
This has put a stop to MY project within the city. How can I even trust that this isn't your fault—or the owner of the bakery you're so fond of?
Micah lunged. "You bastard—"
Josh and Evan caught her, holding her back.
"You're damn lucky I don't still have the demon in me," she spat, "or I'd unleash it to kick your sorry ass."
"Micah—enough." James's voice was sharp, cutting the air. It was the first time I'd heard him speak like that. I think the kid is picking up some notes from me.
The governor smirked. "The girl is mentally unstable; it would be wise if she didn't go around telling people she believes in ghosts and ghouls. She could get locked up in the looney bin."
The crack came fast—James's fist connecting with the governor's jaw. The man crumpled against the desk, unconscious.
We froze.
James, breathing hard, pulled an almost-empty whiskey bottle from the counter, poured it over the governor's face, and let it clatter to the floor beside him."He was already drunk. This makes it look like he passed out to cover our tracks.
"Bloody freaking hell, James," Josh said,
As if he weren't the only one with their mouth open.
I can't lie, he did piss me off saying the same shit to Micah that everyone shut her out for. The same thing had been told her whole life.
"I...I don't think I can talk..." Evan said.
James walked out the door. We'd better leave before someone comes for a permit check.