They turn to the windows, though the blinds are still down and nothing can be seen of the street
beyond.
"No," Regine says, standing up. "It never follows this far. If we get away, it always stops."
The sound of the engine grows louder, two, maybe three streets away.
And getting closer.
Tomasz scowls at Seth. "You were shouting! It heard you!"
"No, it didn't," Regine says. "It's just searching, street by street, trying to find us. Now, be quiet."
They're silent, but there's a shift in the sound as it obviously turns a corner –
And starts driving down the road to Seth's house.
But Seth is thinking.
They only heard the engine after he spoke the words. After he accused them of working with it.
And now here it is.
I did this, he thinks. Did I do this?
"Our footprints are all over," Tomasz says. "It will know we are here."
"It's driving," Regine says. "It may pass by too quickly to notice –"
But she doesn't finish.
Because the engine has come to a stop right outside.
Seth feels Tomasz's hand slip into his own, gripping it the way Owen did every time they had to cross
a street. Seth can feel the tension vibrating up from the little, stubby fingers, can see the nails that are
bitten painfully down to the quick, can see the wide-open, terrified eyes looking back up from
Tomasz's face.
So much like Owen.
"It'll pass," Regine says. "It'll drive on and out. Just nobody move, okay?"
They don't move. Neither does the sound of the engine.
"What is it doing?" Tomasz asks, his voice a desperate whisper.
And Seth sees again the craziness of his hair, an avalanche of wiry tangle. Again, just like Owen's.
Seth looks at Regine, his mind racing.
Everything about this world has felt small. Everything has felt like he was hiding in a tiny pocket of
a place with walls that pressed in from every side, in the form of memories he couldn't shake, a
burnt-out wasteland that made a border, and now these two, showing up just in time to stop him from
going any farther, bringing him back to this same stupid house at the very moment he tried to leave it
for good, and who knows, maybe even bringing this van after them.
"Something about this isn't right," he says.
"What?" Tomasz asks.
Seth squeezes Tomasz's hand, then lets it go. "I'm going to find out what it is."
"You're what?" Regine says.
He starts to cross the sitting room toward the blinds. "I'm going to check and see what's
happening."
Tomasz moves over to Regine and holds her hand now.
Tomasz moves over to Regine and holds her hand now.
Seth stops and looks at them curiously. "You're not here, are you?" he says, the words coming out,
unexpected.
Regine frowns. "Beg pardon?"
"I don't think you're really here. I don't think any of this is really here."
The engine still thrums outside.
"If we're not here," Regine says, holding his stare, "then neither are you."
"You think that's an answer?" Seth says. "You think that's proof?"
"I don't care what you think. If you let that thing see us, we're dead."
But Seth is shaking his head. "I feel like I'm beginning to understand. I'm finally beginning to
understand what this place is." He turns back to the window. "And how it works."
"What are you doing, Mr. Seth?" Tomasz says. "You said you were just going to check."
"Seth, please," Regine says, and he hears her say to Tomasz, "Go, run, there's got to be a back way
"There's nothing to run from," Seth says. "There's nothing here that can hurt me, is there?"
With an almost casual swipe, he pulls up the blinds. The sun blasts into the dim room, and Seth
squints in the brightness –
And the Driver punches a fist through the window, slamming it into Seth's chest, sending him flying
across the room with seemingly impossible force.