The Gathering

At each step, bodies blunder into me, laughter cracks in my ears, and quiet noises tickle at the edge of hearing, turning my head. If only I had a flashlight I could turn it on and swing it over the mass in front of me and define each person. Make them real—one in a flock of many. Remove their mystery.

But the dark is cloying--and creepy.

But Aiden just keeps walking, and I keep following him, surprised by how confident he is here. Not that he ever seems scared anyway, but it's like there's something more here. As if he is gaining something just by being here. He seems . . . bigger.