16 – The Line of No Return

The Line of No Return

The woods around Raven Hollow swallowed the group in fog and shadow, the hollow of trees a fragile shield against the headlights roaring closer. Liam crouched behind a gnarled oak, bat slick with sweat, his leg and shoulder screaming under bandages, the badge—Eclipse Protocol—a cold weight in his pocket. His mom knelt beside him, trembling, her dirt-sketched tunnel map clutched in shaking hands. Maya traced it onto her sketchbook, runes glowing faintly, her blood-crusted hand steady. Sofia gripped her wrench, Luna growling low, her fierce eyes darting. Ethan held the scavenged radio, crowbar dented, static crackling—"Targets locked… engage…"—his shoulder leaking red. Noah pored over the journal scraps, glasses dangling, chanting softly to keep the echoes at bay.

The lullaby hummed through the trees, a whisper threading their scars—Carter's plea, their dead's cries—testing their resolve. Headlights sliced the fog—SUVs skidding, operatives spilling out, rifles glinting, a voice barking: "Fan out—flush them!"

"They're here," Liam hissed, bat up, pain ignored. "Woods won't hold—move!"

They bolted, branches clawing, fog choking, Luna limping beside Sofia. Gunfire cracked—bullets shredding bark, grazing Liam's arm, blood hot. He grunted, swinging the bat back, cracking a rifle barrel as an operative lunged. The man stumbled, Maya's knife slashing his leg, dropping him. Sofia's wrench thudded a helmet, Ethan's crowbar bashed a knee, Noah ducked, journal flapping, his mom staggering behind.

"Manor rubble!" Liam yelled, pointing through the trees—tunnels below, their shot at the ley line. The pack closed in—operatives, relentless, radios buzzing: "Targets moving north!"—and the lullaby swelled, shadows flickering. Creatures peeled from the fog—echoes, their own faces twisted, claws gleaming.

Liam's double lunged, bat swinging—he dodged, cracking its skull, ichor spraying his own blood. Sofia's echo clawed, wrench smashing it, Luna tearing at its legs. Ethan bashed his, crowbar thudding, Maya's knife slashed hers, Noah's raked at him—he chanted louder, rune wood flaring, scattering them.

"Keep going!" Liam roared, dragging his mom, her sobs raw. The manor loomed—rubble strewn, a jagged scar in the earth, the ley line's pulse faint but alive. Operatives fired, bullets whizzing, one clipping Ethan's ear—he cursed, swinging back, crowbar denting armor.

They hit the rubble, sliding into a crater—broken beams, shattered stone, a tunnel mouth gaping, dark and dripping. "Inside!" Liam ordered, shoving his mom ahead. They piled in, fog swirling, the tunnel claustrophobic—walls slick, air humming, condensation beading like sweat.

Gunfire echoed above, operatives closing, but the echoes surged—Carter's face, claws piercing from shadow. Liam swung, bat cracking, ichor soaking him, Sofia's wrench thudded, Ethan's crowbar smashed, Maya's knife slashed, Noah chanted—"Thread snaps…"—rune flaring, shadows dissolving.

"Deeper!" Liam yelled, flashlight beam cutting the dark—tunnels twisting, old, carved with runes Elias's hands might've touched. The hum grew—electric, alive—the ley line's heart. His mom stumbled, map slipping, Maya catching it, sketching fast.

"Here," she said, pointing—a chamber ahead, walls pulsing, a spiral of rune stones glowing faintly, cracked but intact. "It's still tied."

Noah nodded, journal trembling. "Cut the line—end the echoes."

"How?" Ethan demanded, crowbar up, blood dripping from his ear.

"Blood," Maya said, slicing her palm, dripping onto a stone—it flared, the hum spiking. "All of us—now!"

They cut—Liam's arm, Sofia's hand, Ethan's finger, Noah's wrist—blood smearing stones, the spiral blazing. The lullaby roared, a shadow pooling—the Watcher, eyeless, flickering, weaker. "You… fail…" it rasped, claws slashing air.

Liam swung, bat useless, as Sofia's wrench flew, Ethan's crowbar thudded, Maya's knife stabbed—nothing hit, but the stones pulsed, light searing. The Watcher shrieked—cosmic, tearing—retreating into shadow, the hum faltering.

A thud above—boots, operatives breaching. "They're in!" Sofia hissed, wrench up, Luna growling.

Liam grabbed a stone, blood-slick, and smashed it—cracks spidering, light exploding. The tunnel shook, walls groaning, dust raining. "Out!" he yelled, dragging his mom, the group scrambling back, stones collapsing behind, the ley line's pulse dying.

They burst from the tunnel, rubble shifting, fog thick, operatives shouting—"Anomaly down… regroup!"—rifles sweeping. Liam dove behind a beam, pulling his mom, the others scattering—Sofia with Luna, Ethan bleeding, Maya clutching her sketchbook, Noah the journal.

Gunfire cracked—bullets pinging stone, grazing Liam's leg anew. He grunted, tire iron from the station swinging, cracking a rifle, the operative falling. Sofia's wrench smashed another, Ethan tackled, Maya slashed, Noah ducked, chaos erupting in the fog.

"Fall back!" an operative barked, radios buzzing: "Line's dead… pull out!" They retreated, SUVs roaring, headlights fading, leaving silence—broken by the group's gasps, the lullaby gone.

They collapsed in the rubble, bloodied, alive. Liam's mom clutched him, whispering, "It's quiet… really quiet."

Maya checked her palm—no glow, no pull. "Echoes are gone. Line's cut."

"For good?" Sofia asked, fierce, stroking Luna.

Noah adjusted his cracked glasses, journal soaked. "Maybe. Elias doesn't say—it's old magic, unstable."

Ethan wiped blood from his ear, grim. "Protocol's not done. They'll hit again."

Liam stood, leg screaming, badge heavy. "Then we hit harder. They're scared—use it."

The fog pressed, dawn gray, a shadow flickering—faint, distant, watching.

Later, they limped to Sofia's house—closest, safest, Luna's home. Doors locked, windows shut, they patched wounds—Liam's leg, Ethan's ear, cuts and bruises. His mom sat, map redrawn by Maya, quiet but steady. Sofia fed Luna, Maya sketched, Ethan rigged the radio, Noah read scraps.

"We've got leverage," Liam said, badge in hand, voice low. "Line's down—they're scrambling."

"Watcher's weak," Maya added, pencil firm. "We can trap it."

Sofia nodded, fierce. "For them."

Ethan smirked, grim. "Round six."

Noah closed the journal, calm. "We've got the tunnels. Next, we bury it."

Outside, the fog thickened—a whisper lingered, a promise unbroken….