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A footstep scraped behind us. I jumped—and then I laughed in sheer relief and joy.
Abby.
“Hey, guys,” she said. She stepped forward into the light of our flashlights. “What did I miss?”
VIDEO EVIDENCE
Recorded by Sophia Novak
JUNE 30, 2018, TIME UNKNOWN
Abby drops down to one knee at the top of the stairs. From her pocket, she pulls out a pale crystal and brushes white dust from it. Salt, perhaps. She sets it on the top step, and then opens a small knife. She cuts the side of her hand, letting the blood drip onto the crystal.
ABBY: An anchor. It should hold a little while.
Abby starts down the stairs. Footsteps ring on the metal steps.
LIAM: Where are you taking us?
SOPHIA: To my mother. Right?
Abby stops. She half turns and looks at Sophia, and perhaps it is the light of the flashlights, but she looks weary and worn, as if she’s spent a month in this place, not a day.
ABBY: She isn’t what she was, Sophia. This place has changed her.
SOPHIA: But she’s alive.
Her voice breaks on the word. As if it’s a dangerous notion to voice. Abby looks grim.
ABBY: I don’t know if that’s the right word for it.
She continues down the stairs. At every landing she stops and sets out another crystal, and relinquishes another measure of blood.
Abby begins to pant, as if from exertion, though their pace is not strenuous.
SOPHIA: Are you okay?
ABBY: Something’s wrong. We should have reached the bottom by now.
LIAM: Do you hear that? Someone’s singing.
SOPHIE: It’s coming. It’s found us.
Metal creaks above them. Sophia trains the camera on the dark above, and the flashlights shine along the underside of the metal steps. Down the walls comes a rush of dark mold.
ABBY: Come on!
They clatter down the stairs, but only keep going down and down and down.
ABBY: The blood and the salt. It’s supposed to keep the way open. Keep it the same. It isn’t... it isn’t working. The Six-Wing isn’t supposed to be able to stop us like this, but—
SOPHIE: Living blood. It requires living blood.
ABBY: Sorry, do you know something I don’t? Because I don’t remember dying.
SOPHIE: No. But you carry the dead. You’re haunted.
LIAM: Aren’t we all?
