When they reached the diner, a few people were already coming in for breakfast. The smell of fried eggs and fresh coffee drifted through the half-open door, almost comforting if one ignored the context.
Boyd pushed the door open, the bell above it ringing with a cheerful chime that clashed violently with the tension they carried.
The interior was pure 1950s. Red vinyl booths, a long counter, white tables stained by time, and a smooth gray floor. An old jukebox rested in the corner, silent for now.
The moment Daniel stepped inside, his eyes swept across the place. It wasn't tourist admiration. He was looking for someone.
He spotted Kenny's mother behind the counter, stacking plates with practical efficiency. But he didn't see the person he was actually looking for.
Boyd guided them to a fixed booth with benches on each side, the kind that could seat six people if everyone squeezed in. Jim sat beside Tabitha, with Ethan wedged between them. Julie hesitated for half a second before sliding into the opposite bench.
Daniel sat down beside her without ceremony, leaving enough space to be respectful, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her.
Boyd dragged a chair over from another table, the metal scraping against the floor, and sat at the end.
That was when Daniel saw her.
Sara came out of the kitchen carrying a tray, her light blue apron stained with grease and coffee. Brown hair tied in a ponytail, her face... calm. Almost carefree.
Daniel began to watch her with the intensity of someone analyzing a crime scene. Every microexpression. Every movement.
He had been suspicious of her ever since he saw that red dot turn white, but he had no proof it had been her. Many people in town weren't in the best mental state.
The creatures could have tempted any of them with promises of freedom. Especially after what he'd learned about the strange things in the forest. It could also have been something unknown that threw the stone.
She doesn't look guilty, he thought. But guilty people rarely do.
At first, Sara seemed relaxed. Professional smile, light steps. Just another day at work, apparently.
Then she turned and saw them.
The change was subtle. Fast. Almost imperceptible.
Surprise crossed her face first. Her eyes widened slightly, her mouth opening in a small intake of breath. Then confusion. Her brow furrowed, her head tilting just a fraction. Then relief. Her shoulders loosened, her breath leaving in a silent exhale.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the carefree professional mask was back in place.
Three seconds. Maybe four.
If Daniel hadn't been watching so closely, he would have missed it.
"Ever seen someone who can act better than that, System? " he thought, keeping his face neutral. "If I hadn't been paying attention, I wouldn't have noticed the shift at all."
[Interesting. Either she's guilty and has a talent for acting, or she's genuinely surprised you're all still alive. Bets are open.]
Daniel decided to test his new Appraisal skill on her.
Name: Sara Myers/ Age: 22/ Life Level: 1 – Common human
Strength: 7–10 / Endurance: 6–10 / Intelligence: 6–10 / Speed: 7–10
??
And the information stopped there. The skill only provided approximate attributes. No exact values. Nothing about secrets, intentions, or history. Just vague numbers.
Level one has its limits, Daniel thought, frustrated. I need to level this up fast.
Julie, sitting beside Daniel, noticed his intense stare at Sara from the very first second. Something uncomfortable twisted in her stomach. A sharp pang she didn't want to name.
Her fingers intertwined nervously under the table, nails pressing into her skin. Her foot started tapping impatiently beneath the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Against the floor.
He's looking at her like that.
Why?
Is she pretty?
Of course she was. Brown hair, light eyes, the kind of girl who—
Julie bit her lip hard, cutting off her own thoughts.
Jim and Tabitha, sitting across from them, noticed everything. They were parents. Spotting teenage tension was practically an evolved superpower.
Tabitha raised an eyebrow at Jim, her look clearly saying, I told you he was trouble.
Jim just sighed, the air leaving slowly through his nose. Great. One more thing to worry about.
Sara approached the table with that practiced waitress smile, hands clasped in front of her apron. "Good morning. What can I get you?"
Her voice sounded cheerful. Even genuine. As if she hadn't just processed the fact that they were alive when they shouldn't be.
"This is Sara. She works here," Boyd introduced in a neutral, emotionless tone. "You can check the menu."
Daniel kept his expression casual, but his eyes still studied her. Sara glanced away quickly. Maybe discomfort from being watched. Maybe guilt. Impossible to tell.
"Nice to meet you," he said lightly. "Daniel."
She gave a quick nod before pulling a notepad from her apron pocket. "What can I get you?"
Orders were placed. Scrambled eggs for Jim, pancakes for Ethan, who finally smiled again, toast for Tabitha, and eggs for Daniel. Julie ordered something without really thinking, still distracted.
No bacon. Tragic, Daniel thought.
When Sara walked away to put in the order, the jukebox in the corner suddenly turned on by itself.
A soft song from the 1960s filled the diner. Melancholic, with violins and a female voice singing about lost love.
Ethan's eyes widened. "How did it turn on by itself?"
"That happens sometimes," Boyd murmured, unfazed as he picked up the menu. "No one knows why. It just does."
Another anomaly for the growing list, Daniel thought.
[Possessed jukebox. Perfect. Because a town with immortal smiling monsters really needed more random supernatural elements.]
A few minutes later, Kenny's mother came out of the kitchen with Sara, helping carry the food. She was short, with graying black hair, and moved with the efficiency of someone who'd done this for decades.
"This is Tian-Chen, Kenny's mother," Boyd said as she passed the table.
She gave them a gentle nod, a small but genuine smile on her tired face. She didn't say anything. Maybe her English wasn't great. Maybe she was just reserved. But there was warmth there. The kind of warmth a mother carried even in a place without hope.
She placed the plates carefully, making sure everything was right before returning to the kitchen.
The coffee was surprisingly good. Strong, hot, with that slightly bitter taste Daniel liked. The eggs were perfectly scrambled.
"Damn," Jim murmured after the first bite. "I wasn't expecting it to be this good."
"Tian-Chen's been cooking for years," Boyd said, taking a sip of his own coffee.
As they were finishing their meal, Father Khatri hurried in, his face flushed from walking quickly. Sweat shone on his forehead, and he wiped it with his sleeve before approaching.
"Are you done?" he asked, slightly out of breath. "Mike is waiting. We should go before he changes his mind and starts drinking again."
Boyd stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. "I'll see you when you get back." He looked directly at Daniel. "And be careful on the way."
It wasn't paranoia. It was experience.
The sheriff left through the door, his shoulders hunched beneath the invisible weight of yet another day spent trying to keep everyone alive.
---
As they walked toward the mechanic's place, Jim began bombarding Father Khatri with questions. It was almost comical. The engineer simply couldn't turn off his analytical brain, even in the face of the impossible.
"The water," Jim said, gesturing as he walked. "Where does it come from exactly? There has to be a source. An underground reservoir? An artesian well?"
"It comes through the pipes," the priest replied patiently, his steps measured on the cracked asphalt. "It's never dried up. Not in a year. Not in ten."
"But that's impossible. No maintenance, no pumping..." Jim was clearly frustrated by the lack of logic. "And the electricity? Generators?"
"There are no generators. The power just... exists. It works day and night. It always has."
"But how?" Jim's voice rose slightly.
"If I knew, Jim..." Father Khatri gave a tired smile. "Believe me, we've all asked those questions."
That lit a spark in Jim's eyes. That dangerous gleam of someone who had just accepted an impossible challenge. The look that said, I'll be the one to figure this out. There has to be logic.
Tabitha recognized that expression immediately. She gently held his arm, a touch that said not now.
Daniel noticed Julie lagging behind, kicking stones along the road with restrained aggression.
He naturally slowed his pace, letting the others move a few meters ahead. When they were close enough not to lose the group but far enough for privacy, he broke the silence.
"You're way too quiet," he said casually, his tone hiding his constant analysis. "That doesn't suit you."
Julie shrugged, eyes fixed on the ground. "Your imagination."
They walked a few more meters in heavy silence, the sound of shoes against asphalt filling the space.
"She caught your attention, didn't she?" Julie suddenly blurted out, trying to sound indifferent, like she was commenting on the weather.
Daniel blinked, genuinely confused. "Who?"
"Sara."
He frowned. "What?"
"Sara," she repeated, finally looking at him, her cheeks tinged with a sudden pink. "You were staring at her. Like that."
"Like that?" Daniel echoed, trying to process the accusation. "Like what, Julie?"
"Oh, you know," she waved vaguely, irritated by her own inability to explain. "That way men look. I don't know."
Daniel opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Wait. She thinks that...?
[Survived the monsters, endured a car crash, kept his cool during a personal apocalypse... yet completely incapable of noticing jealousy two inches from his face. Emotional intelligence level: zero. Truly impressive.]
"I wasn't..." Daniel started, then stopped himself from laughing. "Julie, I wasn't looking at her like that."
"Then why couldn't you take your eyes off her?" she shot back too quickly, regretting it immediately.
Daniel paused, a small smile forming as he understood. "Don't tell me you're jealous."
"No!" The answer came too fast. "I just thought it was weird. That's all."
He didn't look convinced, but decided to spare her the embarrassment. "I was assessing," he explained, lowering his voice and choosing his words. "Her reaction when she saw us was... strange."
Julie blinked, irritation giving way to sudden curiosity. "Strange how?"
"Too surprised. Almost like she was sure we shouldn't be alive this morning," he shrugged, resuming his pace. "It might be nothing, but after last night, my trust in strangers is below zero."
Julie's expression shifted instantly. Defensive hurt melted away, replaced by slow understanding and a hint of shame. "You think she had something to do with the broken window?"
"I don't know. I was just observing."
"I was just gathering data."
She bit her lower lip, gripping her bracelet. "I'm... sorry. I feel stupid now. I just thought that..."
"It's fine," Daniel interrupted lightly, easing the tension. "It's perfectly understandable to confuse tactical analysis with romantic interest. Happens to the best of us."
"Shut up." Julie shoved his shoulder lightly, but the smile that appeared on her face was shy and genuine.
The silence that followed was comfortable now, almost intimate. They moved closer to the group again, walking a little nearer to each other than before.
Up ahead, Jim Matthews stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. When he saw how close the two of them were and the glow on his daughter's face, he let out a heavy sigh. A long exhale carrying all the exhaustion and suspicion of a father who felt control slipping through his fingers.
========================================
If you want to support the continuation of the story and read chapters in advance, you can become a supporter for just $5 and get access to 5 early chapters.
patreon.com/Northmann