The morning is cold over the Voss farmstead. Frost covers the fields, and the air stings Elias's lungs as he climbs into the back of Daniel's truck.
He settles against the rusted side, his shotgun resting on his lap, the stake in his belt pressing into his hip and his knife securely sheathed at his side.
His breath appears in quick white puffs as the boarded-up house grows smaller in the rearview mirror. The engine starts with a low rumble and tires crunch over the gravel.
They are headed west; ten miles to the clearing that Daniel's journal barely describes, marked by claw marks, a burned circle and remnants from 1984.
Mara sits beside him, holding her rifle, her bandaged left arm steady despite the recent injury, the red stain now faded under fresh cloth.
Daniel drives with one hand on the wheel while his other taps on a rough map drawn on a scrap of paper taped to the dash, his jaw tense under the bruise from last night's fight.
The road passes through flat Kansas plains before entering a dense forest of bare oaks and pines, their branches brittle with ice.
By mid-morning, Daniel pulls off onto a dirt track and brings the truck to a stop. Elias steps out, his boots sinking into the frozen ground. The weight of his shotgun feels familiar as he moves into position.
Daniel steps forward with his shotgun raised and warns in a low, clipped voice, "Keep your eyes open, we don't know what's waiting." Mara follows, her rifle aimed along the tree line as her breath appears in short bursts.
Elias stays between them, his fingers growing numb from the cold as he grips the barrel, watching the shifting shadows.
The forest opens into a clearing; an irregular area filled with overgrown brambles and cracked stones, with a central patch of burned earth.
Elias's boots crunch on the frosty ground as he approaches. The familiar smell of pine gives way to a faint sour odor reminiscent of last night's sulfur. Nearby oaks bear claw marks; some are old and weathered, while others are fresh, with sap visible in the dim light.
Daniel kneels by a stone, clearing the frost with his gloved fingers. "This is it; the spot from '84. Your mom and I burned it right here. It already smelled off back then," he says in a rough voice.
Mara walks along the edge of the clearing, her rifle at the ready. "They have returned since then. Look at these marks; some are newer and deeper. Something has been here."
Elias moves closer to the charred area, holding his shotgun, his pulse quickening as he examines the thick brambles that seem to conceal something.
Suddenly, a twig snaps to the north of the clearing, and the air fills with a strong sulfur odor that almost chokes him.
A low growl comes from the nearby brush, and Daniel quickly rises, firing salt rounds into the trees.
The blast scatters moving shadows as two figures lunge from the undergrowth; large and fast, with dark eyes and glistening Long nails.
Mara fires her rifle, and the bullet hits one figure's shoulder, causing it to bleed onto the snowy ground with a hissing sound.
Elias steadies himself, aims, and fires his shotgun. The salt rounds hit the second figure's chest; it staggers back while emitting a snarl.
The attackers do not advance further; they retreat into the woods. Before disappearing.
Daniel reloads his weapon, his breath visible in the cold and says, "They were scouting and testing us to see what we have."
Mara grabs Elias's arm and pulls him toward the truck. "We're leaving now. They're too close." Elias nods, his heart pounding, but then he notices a glint in the ash near a stone; a piece of metal, partly buried and dull in the frost.
He frees it with his boot. It is an iron shard, jagged and cold, heavier than it appears, with rough edges as if it broke off from something larger. "Does this mean anything?" he asks, holding it up.
Daniel examines it, turning it in his hands before placing it in a pouch. "Maybe. It could be nothing or it could be trouble. We'll figure it out later."
Mara quickly moves, rifle raised, guiding Elias back through the trees as the strong sulfur odor begins to lessen but still lingers.
The truck starts up again, and they get in, leaving the clearing behind as they drive away. Elias holds the pouch that Daniel gives him, feeling the weight of the iron shard in his palm while keeping his knife at the ready. He silently wonders: What were those creatures? Why is this place significant?
Mara speaks quietly beside him, "They are guarding that place. Whatever we dealt with back then is still active."
Daniel nods grimly, keeping his eyes on the road. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Rest tonight. They are not finished with us." As the farm looms ahead in the fading light, Elias climbs out of the truck with his shotgun by his side.
The iron shard remains a concerning thought in his mind, and the marks from the clearing seem more threatening than the biting frost on his skin.