Chapter 52. Fire at the Gate

The junkyard wasn’t quiet that night. It was waiting.

Engines sat idling like caged animals, headlights casting crooked beams over rusted cars. The fire pit burned low, shadows stretching across tense faces. No one said it out loud, but everyone felt it: the ground was about to shake.

Riven sat on the hood of a dead truck, jacket zipped tight, bandaged hands hidden in her lap. Every nerve screamed with anticipation, the silence pressing sharper than the smoke in her lungs. Hale’s papers still weighed in her pocket, maps, and scribbles like riddles she couldn’t yet solve.

Axel leaned against the fence across from her, hood low, arms folded. His eyes never stopped scanning the dark beyond the gate.

Kenzie perched nearby, chain draped around her neck like jewelry, grin crooked. “Feels like prom night. All dressed up, waiting for the punch bowl to explode.”

Riven shot her a look. Kenzie only laughed.

Then the first engine snarled outside the fence.