Dreamwalkers: The Awakening

CHAPTER 15

It takes us another ninety minutes to reach Roque Bluffs, Maine, a tiny town on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, consisting mainly of trees, coastline and wet roads.

I guide us there using the maps my dad provided—a skill I had no idea I possessed, having spent most of my life relying on voice guided GPS to get anywhere unknown. Specific instructions to find the unmarked entrance to the colony are scribbled at the bottom of the map. A black mailbox with a white dove painted on it will sit atop a bright red post at the end of a driveway.

We drive down the damp, winding road as leaves from the trees abandon their summer homes and fall to ground. A bright red leaf sticks to the rainy windshield and a little bit of Charlie trickles in to my consciousness. "My favorite thing about fall," he once told me, "is when the wet leaves stick to everything. Cars, roads, houses. Doesn't matter. I love it all."

The rain begins to fall again and Zoë turns on the wipers, relocating the leaf to her corner of the windshield and out of my line of sight. With my distraction gone, my eyes once again focus on the road ahead. A stiff breeze blows, rattling a shrub and revealing a fiery red mailbox post. Butterflies come alive in my stomach. "It's really happening now, isn't it?"

Zoë replies with a hefty sigh and a nervous chuckle.

As we approach the mailbox, I take note of the so-called dove painted on its side. More symbolic than literal, its harsh angles and straight edges resemble something that'd be used in a company logo, not in a place of peaceful existence.

Zoë turns the Jeep onto the narrow dirt road, following the rocky path. A mixture of nerves and excitement fill me. I'm finally going to see the place I've only daydreamed about for so many years.

The trees start to become more densely packed and in under a minute, we're in the middle of a forest. The simple dirt road we've been driving along transforms into a rugged, off-road space as we climb a steep incline. As Zoë navigates around the exposed tree roots, fallen branches and rocks, I can't help but think this is the reason her parents bought her a Jeep Wrangler.

I grip the bar above the doorframe to keep myself balanced in my seat. The ride is uncomfortable and jostles us without care. Just when we think we can't possibly survive another moment, we reach the top of the hill and the edge of the woods.

Constructed on land carved from the forest stands a tall white building disguised as an ultra-modern house. The rocky dirt road fades away as a black asphalt driveway emerges. Even though we're alone inside the Jeep, I still whisper when I talk. "This is so weird."

"Where do we even go in?" Zoë asks rhetorically as she pulls the Jeep up to the edge of the building. As if it heard the question, the white garage door in front of us begins to slide upward, retracting into the building.

A green light above the door blinks and a tall, muscular man with inky black hair walks out from the garage and toward us. He wears a one-piece gray bodysuit with the same dove from the mailbox embroidered on his chest in fluorescent yellow.

When Zoë doesn't lower her window, he taps his knuckle against it. Her breath catches as she reaches for the switch. The window falls only a few inches before the man speaks. "Pull your car into the garage. Level two, space number six."

She gives him a suspicious nod and inches forward. "He didn't even ask who we are or what we want." The ground dips sharply once we're through the door as we head into an underground parking facility.

"I don't think this is a place just anyone comes to, Zo."

Behind us, the door closes, cutting off the stream of sunlight and punishing us with florescent lighting. We make a loop while continuing to descend, driving under a cement overhang that reads 'Level 2' in faded block letters. A large, white number six is stenciled on the ground at the entrance to the only available parking space. Zoë pulls the Jeep in and shuts off the engine. "Now what?" she asks, searching for a point of entry.