Back in Idaho, I had an older brother, Adrian. Followed him everywhere when we were kids. Didn’t matter where he went, the garage, the river, or some half-broken fence line out past the fields. I was right there behind him, trying to keep up, trying not to eat dirt when he moved too fast for my legs to keep up.

He never told me to go home and leave him alone, like most older brothers. And he wasn’t loud about anything. Didn’t say nothing unless he had something worth saying. 

The last time I saw him, he didn’t say anything at all. Not even when my stepdad lost it that night. The house went quiet in the way it does when something’s gone too far, and everybody knows it. And Adrian didn’t fight back; he just took it. 

And the whole time, I stayed in my room with a pillow pressed over my head, like if I couldn’t hear it, it wasn’t really happening. Like I could shrink small enough to slip off somewhere else.

He was gone by morning. No note, no slammed door. An absence, settling in like dust. Just like me, later. Slipping out in the middle of the night, not looking back. Only, I made it out. Adrian didn’t.

They found him two days later, past the fields, floating under those endless blue skies, in a pond nobody used anymore. Water flat and muddy. I didn’t see him, but they told me enough. He’d been face down, peaceful, like he’d finally stopped trying to stay.

I missed him; I always would. That part didn’t change. But I carried him with me after that in the cross around my neck, light enough I could forget it was there. A little bit of his ashes sealed inside. After the funeral, I’d stood there in borrowed black and ankle-high trousers and made him a promise I wasn’t sure I deserved to keep. 

That I’d get out, that I wouldn’t let this place take me the way it took him, and that one of us would make it past the fields. 

Adrian hadn’t even made it to eighteen when he died; he was the last good thing in my life.

So I guess I had nothing to lose at this point. Or, that’s what I told myself. It was easier than admitting the truth. Because this whole thing, with David and his gang, the monster out there that had destroyed my car, and even Noah Riley? It didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like a thin line I was straddling. Like everything before this…Idaho, Adrian, even the road, had been one long stretch of waiting.

And this. Man, this was the moment something finally answered back. 

I mean, yeah, it had tentacles and probably wanted to eat my ass.

Not exactly what I’d pictured. But still.

I’m standing there huddled under an awning, jacket pulled up over my ears to keep the cold and wet out, when The Hair steps out of a nearby joint called Pig N’ Pancake, like grabbing breakfast and experiencing whatever hell nightmare we’d just crawled out of was just some normal, everyday thing for him.

He’s got a crumpled brown bag in one hand and two foam cups of coffee in the other. Steam curls up into the cold air. Then he spots me, still standing there like an idiot. 

I hadn’t run when he told me he was going to get us some food, because I didn’t have anywhere to run to. Back in Idaho, I’d always had somewhere, even if it was just the next road or bad decision. But here? Standing under that awning, soaked through, with something wrong still burning under my skin where David had cut me? There was just this shit hole, Astoria.

And him.

He walked straight over, but I didn’t move or greet him, and I refused to say a damn thing to his pretty-boy bitch ass with the perfect hair. Instead, I tightened my jaw and looked away.

The Hair reached into the bag and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in black checkered paper.

“Are you serious, man?” I barked, jerking back like he had just tried to hand me something worse than whatever that thing was. “You think I want a sandwich right now? After that—” I cut myself off with a sharp breath, gesturing out toward the street like the nightmare might still be out there listening. “After that fucking thing crawled out of some hell pit and tried to eat us? After it destroyed my car and everything I had in it? You think you can just hand me a sandwich like I’m some dumb fucking preschooler who just wet his pants and needs a snack?”

David held the sandwich between us like some kind of bizarre peace offering. “Michael,” he said, “you are shaking.”

“I’m wet,” I snapped back, sharper now, meaner. “Bet you don’t hear that often, do you, Hair?”

“No,” he replied. “You are in shock.”

I scoffed, but it came out thin and pathetic, probably matching how I looked right then. A guy could only do so much when he was soaked to the bones and covered in tentacle slime. My mullet didn’t even look like a mullet anymore, strands clinging to my face and shoulders.

“You think anger will keep you safe,” David told me. “It will not.”

I glared at him. “Worked so far.”

“Not very well,” he said, like he was some freak Yoda giving advice.

I stared down at the sandwich for, like, half a second too long. Then I reached out and snatched it from his hands. I tried to hold onto the attitude, stay pissed, loud, and in control of something, but my hands were shaking so hard I could barely unwrap it. It was all grease, salt, and heat. Bacon, something sweet…maybe jam. Maybe peanut butter. I didn’t care.

It was the first real food I’d had in almost two days.

I tore into it, nearly choking on the first bite. Egg yolk burst in my mouth, running down the corner of my lip before I wiped it away with my fist.

David held out a foam cup of coffee without saying anything, and I didn’t even look at him this time. I just grabbed it and took a long pull, the burn ripping down my throat. I coughed as it hit my stomach like liquid fire.

I slowed after half the sandwich was gone, chewing more steadily now, my jaw working as I dragged in a breath that didn’t feel like it was trying to outrun me for once. The shaking was still there, just hidden better.

I glanced at David, narrowing my eyes. “You know, Noah Riley said you were dangerous,” I told him.

David leaned against the brick wall and took a slow sip of his coffee. “Did he,” he said, unimpressed. “Was that before or after you attacked him?”

“I didn’t attack him. I shook him up a little.” I snorted. “Anyway. He didn’t exactly elaborate. Just had that whole ‘stay away from that guy’ vibe.” I paused, chewing. “Which… you know, is starting to make sense.”

That earned me a level look. “He would say that,” he replied, amused.

“You don’t sound surprised,” I said.

“I am not,” he answered, and turned to head into the alley behind us.

I hesitated for half a second, just long enough to pretend I wasn’t following him like a lost puppy. Then I pushed off the wall and went after him anyway.

“Hey,” I called, wiping my hand on my jeans. “So what, you guys have history or something?”

The alley swallowed us fast. Light dropped off in that strange, uneven way. Water dripped from fire escapes, tapping metal, brick, and concrete.

“You and him used to run together?” I pressed. “Or is this a ‘he saw too much and now he hates your guts’ situation? Nerd Boy seemed real freaked out when I brought up your name. That was before he sucker-punched me, by the way.”

David stopped so fast I almost walked into him. Then he turned just enough that I could see his face in the low light, shadow cutting across it sharp and uneven.

“Stay away from Noah Riley,” he said.

I stepped closer anyway, getting right in his face. “Or what?” I replied. I pulled my pack of soggy cigarettes from my pocket and shoved one between my lips without lighting it. “Riley’s a big boy. Dude’s like six feet tall. He doesn’t need you babysitting him.”

David’s gaze dropped to my lips, then slowly slid back up.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Hair?” I pressed, laughing under my breath. “Afraid I’ll fuck Riley so hard and good he’ll never look your way again? That my big dick’s gonna have him moaning my name all night while you’re sitting in some dark alley crying about the one that got away? I heard what you did to his boyfriend. Beat him up so bad he ended up in the hospital.” I put a hand on my hip and leaned forward, crowding him against the wall, one hand beside his head. “So this savior complex you’ve got going on? I see right through it, David. And I don’t like guys like you. So why don’t you just fuck off?”

David lowered his head and laughed sharply.

I wasn’t sure what to do with that at first.

“Smoking will kill you slowly,” he said, plucking the cigarette from my lips and tossing it aside. “Disgusting.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but a voice cut through the rain.

“I took care of it, boss.”

David squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then exhaled through his nose. “Marko,” he said flatly.

Marko came into view at the edge of the alley, soaked, disheveled, still carrying the aftermath of whatever the hell had happened back there. But he was still stupidly pretty, all blond curls and careless energy, like he didn’t belong in the same world as blood and monsters.

“I’m going,” I said abruptly, sliding the backpack David had given me down one shoulder. “You can keep this. I’ll give the clothes back later if you want them. I’m not doing this secret monster alley cult initiation shit. I’m out.”

David caught the backpack when I tossed it, squinting at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Hey,” Marko said, resting a hand on David’s shoulder. “Mikey,” he added. “You fuck like an angel. I’m gonna miss you.”

David studied me, then shrugged slightly and handed the backpack back. “Go back to Idaho, Michael,” he said. “Maybe you will find answers. Keep the backpack. You will need it.”

I watched him and Marko turn and walk away, disappearing deeper into the alley.

“Hey,” Marko called back, grinning. “If you change your mind, Hudson’s Bluff—”

“We are not involving him, Marko,” David cut in without looking back.

Marko sighed. “Yeah, yeah, boss.”

Then, like it was nothing, he added, “We still having that orgy tonight?”

David didn’t answer.

Marko bumped his shoulder against his as they walked. “Trixie’s bringing beer after work.”

That was the last thing I heard before they disappeared into rain and shadow.

I didn’t know how long I stood there after they were gone, wondering if I’d just made the wrong choice by not following them into the dark.