Meredith.
The drive was quiet, almost too quiet.
From the back seat of the car, I watched the city blur past through tinted glass. The streets that were once packed with cars and people were now nearly deserted.
Shops stood shuttered, their signs dim. Empty sidewalks stretched for blocks, and every now and then, a patrol vehicle rumbled by in the opposite lane, its siren silent but its lights spinning a dull red and blue.
The state of emergency had transformed Duskmoor. It now resembled a ghost town, all glass, silence, and fear.
I glanced sideways at Draven. He sat with one arm resting against the window, his posture calm, his expression unreadable.
Even in this emptiness, he looked completely in control, as if he belonged to every shadow we passed.
Dennis and Jeffery's car followed close behind, and two more vehicles trailed them with our men in them.
The convoy moved like one living thing, precise and alert.
