Rory woke groggy and disoriented, forgetting for a moment what had happened. A warm breeze carried the smell of salt and the sound of the tide. She rolled over in the King sized bed and glanced out the open sliding glass doors at the empty stretch of beach. The cobalt sea twinkled in the high afternoon sun.
The puzzle pieces of the last twenty four hours fell into place, and she sat up, wiping her eyes. They’d fled the city within an hour after witnessing the ritual – as Micah had called it – leaving behind their phones, and all of their belongings.
Micah hadn’t even told Stony where they were going. She didn’t even know he had a driver’s license until they’d gotten in a car she didn’t know he owned and he drove south for what felt like hours. Any attempt at light hearted conversation felt forced and talking about what they’d seen was too depressing. Sleep was the only option.