Hal walked through the quiet streets of Visigoth, the group trailing close behind, their bags slung over tired shoulders. The town felt like a ghost had brushed through it—faint traces of life, long since abandoned.
Suburban houses lined the streets, their windows dark, mail spilling out of rusted boxes. Trash bins were overfilled, some tipped over, their contents scattered by wind or time. Every few feet, Hal passed another bulletin board, another telephone pole, each plastered with faded flyers. Missing persons. Faces of men, women, children—and not all human. Some posters were of lost pets, hopeful captions beneath the black-and-white images: Have you seen our cat? Please call.Missing dog—answers to 'Rusty'.
Hal's steps slowed, eyes scanning one of the poles covered with overlapping flyers. There were too many to count.
When he glanced at the others, no one said a word. Dani stared at the sidewalk. Sam's jaw was tight. Roberto just kept walking, silent and unreadable. None of them seemed surprised—like they had seen this before. Too often. And each time, it still hurt, but less than it should.
Eventually, they reached what must have once been the heart of the town. The main square. The town hall loomed at the center, neglected and crumbling, its flagpole crooked and bare. Strip malls lined the street in either direction, their storefronts gutted or shuttered, with sun-bleached "For Lease" signs clinging to the windows.
Hal let out a dry exhale. "So much for catching a bus."
Just then, a distant sound cut through the silence—wailing sirens, growing louder with every second. The group tensed instantly, instincts kicking in. They turned as one, preparing for anything.
A police cruiser rolled into view, its lights flashing lazily, the siren fading as it slowed. It stopped at the curb just ahead of them, dust swirling in its wake.
The window rolled down.
A lone officer sat inside, one hand on the wheel, the other holding a half-eaten breakfast sandwich. He blinked at them, unfazed, like it was perfectly normal to find six teenagers wandering through a deserted town.
"Where are you kids headed?" the officer asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not every day I see folks just walking into Visigoth."
"We were hoping to get to Boston," Hal replied calmly. "Figured we could catch a bus here, but… looks like that's not happening."
The cop leaned back in his seat with a sigh, setting his sandwich aside. "Boston, huh? You kids from Maine? New Hampshire? Vermont?"
Hal glanced at the others, unsure how to answer. "We've… come from different places."
The officer's gaze swept across the group, studying their faces. "You've walked a long way, then. Can't imagine how you even managed it. You should've called social services before now."
He picked up his radio and pressed the button. "Yeah, dispatch? Got a group of displaced teens out here near the square. Don't ask me how they crossed states, but they're standing in front of me, alive and tougher than they look... Yeah, Concord station? Got it."
He clicked the radio off and looked back at them. "Alright, hop in. I'll take you to Concord—our local station here's been shut down for a while."
Hal stepped forward slightly, his tone measured. "Sir, we're not looking for trouble. Just a ride to Boston. That's all."
The cop raised a hand. "Relax, kid. You're not in trouble. I'll take you to the station first, then someone can arrange transport to the refugee shelter in Boston."
Hal hesitated, then gestured to the others. "There's six of us. I don't think we'll all fit."
"Eh," the cop shrugged, pushing the passenger door open. "Someone's gonna have to sit on someone's lap. We'll make it work. Let's go—chop-chop."
—
Concord looked nothing like Visigoth. The neighborhoods were cleaner, more upscale, with homes that actually looked lived in. Life hadn't fully returned to normal, but at least here, it wasn't completely hollow.
Inside the cramped police car, things were far less polished. The back seat barely fit two people, and those two each had someone awkwardly perched on their laps—Sam on Roberto, and Rahne on Dani. Up front, Hal and Illyana were squished side by side in stiff silence. The ride was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the radio murmuring bad news—understaffed patrols, more places falling apart. Apparently, state policy kept most towns in skeleton operation.
When they pulled up to the station, it looked just as under-resourced as the reports suggested. A small building, with barely any patrol cars in the lot, worn brick walls, and an aura of overtime exhaustion.
"You kids wait here," the cop said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'll check in at the desk and come back for you."
He stepped out, leaving the group to their own awkward silence.
Roberto broke it with a smirk. "Comfy there, Hal? Looks real cozy."
Hal raised his eyebrows. "Didn't exactly volunteer for this."
He glanced at Illyana beside him. "Regretting tagging along yet?"
She blinked, unbothered. "Why? It's just car ride."
Dani snorted. "Better Hal than this perv."
Roberto rolled his eyes. "Mock me all you want."
"You were touching my thigh," Dani replied flatly.
"It was an accident! This car's like a coffin."
Before round two of the argument could fire up, the officer returned and knocked on the window before opening the door. "Alright, inside you go. We've got coffee, if you're into it enough to try it. Transport's en route—should be here in a couple hours. In the meantime, we'll ask a few questions."
Hal gave a nod, lips pressed tight. "Sure."
They all piled out, stretching sore limbs and stiff backs as they stepped onto solid ground again. The cop headed back inside, leaving them alone under the cloudy afternoon sky.
Hal moved closer to Rahne and gently tapped her shoulder. "Your hearing back?"
She nodded.
"Good. Listen in while we're inside. If you pick up anything suspicious on the station comms, let us know."
He turned to the rest of the group. "Alright—make up a story. No real names."
"What if our stories don't match?" Sam asked, frowning.
"They won't care enough to notice if you aren't making outlandish remarks, we're refugees." Hal said. "Just say we met along the way and stuck together. That's probably enough."
"What if they already know that we're not really refugees?" asked Dani.
"That's why I asked Rahne to listen," said Hal. "If anything sounds suspicious, we bolt off."