Chapter 158

  Kaysi

  I was in and out of sleep, never truly resting.

  Shell City didn't allow it—not really. Even in the small home, the walls hummed with the vibrations of power cycling beneath the streets. The lights outside dimmed at timed intervals but never fully went dark, like the city was afraid of what might surface if it closed its eyes.

  Something lurked outside the window.

  I caught it out of instinct more than sight—a distortion in the air, like a heat rippling without warmth. The shape slid along the alley, thin and elongated, too smooth in its motion to be human. My heart raced.

  "That's not maintenance or a Silent Police," I murmured.

  Evan's voice barely reached me. "You feel that?" I nodded, remaining silent. I could feel something drawing energy from the lives around us—even a bit of my own.

  It is like an energy vampire, I thought. Not in it for the blood but feeding off your vitality.

  I could feel the spiritual force of whatever it was after draining, but then the demon vanished. The man was left alive. It acts as the rest of the city: it drains you but keeps you alive.

  That is when I understood: this thing didn't feel out of pce here. It fit Shell City perfectly. Take what you need and more. Leave you just barely breathing.

  My attention instinctively snapped behind us to the pregnant woman, who shifted in her sleep, and to the space where her husband should have been. The city wouldn't wait for her. It would pressure her—debts, bor choices she should never have to make.

  Not all of us will be able to go, I realized.

  I turned quietly to the others. "Micah, James, I think you should stay and watch after her."

  Mich looked up at me, eyes sharp and calm regardless of our ck of sleep. She agreed with a simple head nod.

  "She's close to term," Micah said softly, gncing toward the woman. "If anything happens, I can help, and I have the experience."

  James nodded once. "No one's taking advantage of this family while we're here."

  Relief and guilt twisted together in my chest. "Thank you."

  I faced Evan, Becky, and Josh. "We go now. We shouldn't be on this side of town. If we're going to get into the pnt without drawing attention, we need a reason to be moving—and this thing gives us one."

  The four of us slipped into the streets, leaving Micah and James behind as quiet guards.

  The wrong side of town in Shell City felt different immediately. The lights were dimmer. The streets and walkways are narrower and neglected. The hum of the power lines grew louder and harsher here. Anyone living on this side may even be at risk of low doses of radiation poisoning or worse if the pnt were to have any major nuclear accidents.

  The street grew darker until we were in an alleyway. All of a sudden, the demon jumped from a dark corner and grabbed Becky. It pulled a bit of energy from her before Josh bsted its head off, and the creature dissolved into ash-like fragments that faded away before hitting the ground.

  "Are you okay?" Josh helped her to her feet and hugged her.

  "Yes, I am fine, just a tad bit tired."

  The city didn't react—no arms or silent police.

  That told me everything.

  "This wasn't a problem," I said quietly. "It was tolerated."

  We didn't linger. Ahead, the industrial fencing rose into view—thick, reinforced, humming faintly with power. Beyond it, the pnt loomed, vast and indifferent, swallowing lives in shifts at a time.

  Josh crouched and lit a small fire on the tip of his finger. It flickers faintly under the city lights.

  "Once we're through," he said, "there's no clean way back."

  I nodded, gripping the fence as I pulled it closer to his fme, and it snapped.

  "I know."

  The cuy in the fence was just wide enough for us to slip through single file. The metal edges were warm where Josh had melted them, humming faintly as if the city itself resented being breached. I held the opening steady while the others passed through, then followed st, easing the fence back into pce as best I could. From a distance, it would look untouched. Shell City preferred the illusion of control.

  Inside the perimeter, the air changed immediately.

  It was thicker here. Not humid—heavy. It pressed against my lungs with every breath, carrying the scent of metal, ozone, and something chemical that clung to the back of my throat. The ground vibrated constantly, a low, endless tremor that traveled up through my boot and into my bones.

  Becky rubbed her arms. "I don't like this," she murmured. The energy feels...wrong.

  "You're not imagining it," I said quietly. "This pce isn't meant for people. It was meant for output."

  Ahead of us, massive structures rose in yers—reactor towers, processing blocks, and cooling systems ced with glowing conduits that surged in low signals in the sky. Walkways crisscrossed overhead, and below them, workers moved in steady lines, heads down, steps synchronized. Shift arms chiming in an annoying, repetitive loop.

  No one talked.

  They wore muted colored uniforms—gray-blue fabrics reinforced at the shoulders and elbows, with identification bands wrapped around their wrists. Each band glowed faintly, cycling through symbols I didn't recognize.

  Josh exhaled slowly in frustration. "Okay. So... how do we blend in?.

  I watched the worker more closely, forcing myself to slow down. Panic would get us caught faster than anything else. "We don't rush it. We don't look like tourists, keep our heads down, and act like one of them. Like we belong here—even if we don't know where we're going yet."

  Evan nodded. "Follow someone who looks like they know what they're doing."

  "Exactly," I said. "And we don't draw attention, Josh, Becky..." I teased.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. "Because we glow when we are nervous?"

  I smiled.

  We waited until a group of workers passed near the fence line, then slipped in behind them, adjusting our pace to match theirs. No one questioned us. No one looked at us for too long. The city didn't care who worked here—only that the work continued. We were still minors but old enough to pass as adults. James was the youngest at 16; the rest of us were 17.

  As we moved deeper into the pnt, the sound grew louder. Machines roared and hissed, releasing bursts of steam that fogged the air before being sucked away by vents overhead. Every few minutes, warning tones echo through the complex, not urgent, not arming. Just... procedural.

  I caught glimpses of faces as we passed. Exhausted, hollow, alive but barely. The same look the demon had left behind in the alley.

  Life draining, I thought again. Just this was more efficient.

  Becky leaned closer to me. "Kaysi... How are we supposed to find one person in all of this?"

  I didn't answer right away. I watched a terminal mounted near one of the processing bays. Workers scanned their wristbands before entering, the screen fshing green or red depending on authorization. Beside it, a list scrolled—names, shift numbers, and assignment codes. And the occasional higher-ups use a keycard to access or make changes.

  "There," I said under my breath. "Records—we can find the husband and get the approval we need to approve him for home-bound work release quietly. The one time I wish James were here to do some hacking."

  Evan stepped to my side and met my gaze. "You think his name would be in there? If we can get a key card and the right access, I may be able to make the changes on the computer to get his release; then we just need to break him out of here.

  "If he were reassigned to the pnt, then they had to have logged him," I said. "The city doesn't do anything without a paper trail."

  As we rounded a corner, looking for a solution, our solution collided with us. A supervisor—a tall, broad-shouldered figure with reinforced pting along their uniform and thicker identification bands glowing a harsh white. His eyes flickered over us, assessing us.

  He turned sharply, already tapping at his tablet—and that's when I noticed my collision knocked loose his access key card from its clip, dangling by a thin pstic loop; he had not noticed it yet.

  I stepped forward like I was steadying myself, fingers brushing his arm as I pretended to stumble, trying to regain my ground.

  "I—sorry—"

  The card came free into the palm of my hand. I let my hand fall naturally to my side, heart pounding so hard I was sure it could be heard over the machines.