The Hidden City

Chapter 4: The Gatekeeper

The road stretched on endlessly as the family made their way north from California. The journey had been long, with Vince driving all through the day and deep into the night. The scenery gradually shifted from the sunlit coasts to the thick forests of the Pacific Northwest, eventually leading them to the edge of the Tongass National Forest in Alaska.

As they entered the small town nestled at the forest's edge, Matt peered out of the car window, taking in his surroundings. The place seemed peaceful—small, quiet, and tucked away from the rest of the world. Wooden houses with stone foundations lined the streets, many with chimneys puffing out trails of smoke. Old pickup trucks were parked in driveways, and hand-painted signs marked the local businesses. Yet, despite the charm, there was an unmistakable tension in the air.

Matt noticed how the townsfolk watched them. People stopped their conversations as they passed, turning to observe the unfamiliar car with wary eyes. A woman on the sidewalk paused mid-step, pulling her child closer as she cast a long glance at them. Even a group of kids playing in a nearby yard fell silent, their curious stares following the vehicle as it rolled by.

"Looks like we don't get a warm welcome," Matt muttered, glancing at Rocky, who sat quietly in the passenger seat. She gave a small smile, but her gaze remained forward, her own unease hidden behind a calm façade.

"They're just cautious," Vince said from the driver's seat, his voice level but firm. "It's a small town, not many outsiders come through here."

The car slowed as they approached the town hall, an old, sturdy building made of dark wood and stone. Vince pulled into a parking space, turning off the engine.

He turned to Rocky and Matt. "I need to go inside," Vince said. "Wait here. It won't be long."

Matt watched his dad step out of the car and make his way toward the entrance. Two security guards, standing rigidly by the large wooden doors, immediately moved to intercept him. There was a brief exchange—Matt couldn't hear the words, but he could see the tense body language. One of the guards checked a clipboard, finally nodded, and allowed Vince to pass through the door. It closed behind him with a heavy thud, leaving Matt and Rocky in the quiet, stillness of the car.

"Wonder what they're talking about in there," Matt said, leaning back in his seat, still feeling the weight of the townspeople's gazes on them.

Rocky gave him a half-smile. "Probably just making sure we're supposed to be here," she said, though her tone carried an underlying tension. "It'll be fine."

Inside the town hall, Vince walked down a narrow hallway, the wood-paneled walls giving off a faint scent of pine. It was quiet, with only the muffled sounds of conversation and footsteps in the distance. After a few moments, he was led into a cozy office, where an older woman with soft, honey-brown hair sat behind a modest desk. Her hair, though touched by age, was meticulously kept, each strand in place.

She wore a comfortable, navy cardigan over a blouse with a delicate floral pattern, and as she looked up, her russet-brown eyes met Vince's with a welcoming, almost motherly warmth. Her features were softened by faint laugh lines around her mouth and eyes.

"You must be Vince," she said, standing and offering her hand with a polite smile. "Sharon Adams, the mayor's secretary."

Vince shook her hand firmly. "Nice to meet you."

Vince recognized her voice immediately; it was the same voice he'd heard over the phone Friday night, the one that had delivered the long-awaited news that they'd been granted entry into the city. Her words had come as a relief he could hardly put into words, a glimmer of hope after months of uncertainty.