Chapter Six:
“The Family”
The rain hammered down in relentless torrents, blurring the line between earth and sky. New Bern, reshaped by time and hardship, wore the storm like an old coat, familiar, heavy, and impossible to shed. The Neuse River, once a glimmering thread of life, now snaked through the ruins as a dark and polluted shadow. Lightning flashed, revealing the skeletal remains of buildings, their hollow windows staring like dead eyes.
Finn's laughter broke through the rhythm of the storm as he swung from a makeshift zip line rigged between the skeletal remains of two office buildings. The rope groaned under his weight, and Isla's voice cut through the downpour, sharp and precise.
"Finn! You're going to break your neck!"
"Relax, Sis!" Finn called out, grinning through the downpour. "If I fall, Max'll catch me."
Max, standing on a precariously balanced piece of driftwood below, glanced up, rain dripping from his frayed bandana. "Correction: if you fall, I'm going to watch and then help you laugh about it later."
Shugg, trudging a few paces behind, let out a low chuckle. "Kid's got a point. If you're dumb enough to play chicken with gravity, don't expect applause when it wins."
Finn dropped lightly to the ground, shaking off the rain like a drenched dog. "No faith in me, huh?"
"I've got faith," Shugg replied, his mustache twitching as he adjusted his coat. "Faith that you'll keep making poor life choices. Keeps things interesting."
The family pressed forward, their path winding through the crowded streets of New Bern's market district. Broad Street, once the heart of a quaint Southern town, had transformed into a chaotic sprawl of makeshift stalls, flashing neon signs, and ramshackle awnings that barely held back the rain. Vendors shouted over the storm, their voices merging into a pandemonium that was almost musical.
Snatches of conversation from the crowd reached their ears, talk of something called "The Ultimate Dive."
"I heard it's starting soon. Only the brave are gonna make it."
"Yeah, but think of the rewards. It's worth the risk, isn't it?"
"You think you'd survive The Ultimate Dive? You can't even handle a storm like this!"
"Shut up. At least I'm willing to try."
"Get your tech repairs here! No refunds!"
"Fresh-ish fish, straight from the river! Two-for-one deal!"
"Storm shelter spots available, limited time only!"
Finn darted toward a cart selling roasted chestnuts, their scent cutting through the damp air. "Hey, can I get some?"
Isla grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "No way. We're not wasting rations on overpriced snacks."
Shugg pulled out his digital ration card, its dull blue screen flickering in the rain. "Relax, kid. Old Shugg's got you covered." He tapped his card against the vendor's reader, which let out a cheerful beep.
The vendor, a wiry man with a wide-brimmed hat, handed over a small bag of chestnuts. "Enjoy 'em while they're warm. They cool off faster than you'd think."
Finn grinned as he popped one into his mouth. "Thanks, Shugg. You're my favorite today."
"Today?" Shugg grunted. "I'm your favorite every day. You're just too stubborn to admit it."
As they moved on, Finn stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the rain. "Hey... did you see that?"
"See what?" Isla asked, following his gaze.
"That woman," Finn said, pointing toward a figure standing beneath a flickering streetlight. The woman wore a tattered cloak, her hood drawn low over her face. She stood motionless, as if waiting for something, or someone.
"Probably just some poor soul trying to stay dry," Shugg said, his tone dismissive. "She's got as much business in this mess as we do."
The woman's head turned slightly, just enough for the light to catch the pale curve of her cheek. Before anyone could speak, she melted into the shadows, vanishing from sight.
The storm intensified as they moved toward Union Point Park. The rain lashed sideways now, driven by wind that howled through the streets like an angry ghost. The park, once a picturesque haven of greenery and river views, had become a sprawling encampment of tattered tents and makeshift shelters. Fires flickered in oil drums, their smoke mingling with the heavy scent of wet earth and desperation.
"Stay close," Isla warned, glancing at Max and Finn. "We don't want to get separated."
"Who'd want to get separated in this paradise?" Max quipped, gesturing at the flooded paths and scavengers picking through the mud.
Shugg snorted. "You laugh now, but you'd miss my charming personality the second I was gone."
They passed a group of children splashing through the mud when Finn suddenly froze. "She's here again."
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"What are you talking about?" Isla asked, her tone edged with impatience.
Finn pointed toward a figure standing at the edge of the encampment. The woman was back, her hood hiding most of her face. This time, she was holding a bundle of flowers, wilted, rain-soaked, and strangely out of place.
Shugg followed Finn's gaze, narrowing his eyes. "Well, I'll be. Flower Lady's got a habit of showing up where she ain't expected."
"Do you think she's following us?" Max asked, his voice low.
"Maybe," Shugg said with a shrug. "Or maybe she's just got terrible timing. Either way, she's not doing us any harm."
The woman raised her head slightly, her eyes meeting theirs for a fleeting moment. Then, as if carried by the wind itself, she turned and disappeared into the storm.
As they continued, the storm seemed to grow restless, its fury reflecting the unease that hung over the city. Narrow alleys offered brief respite from the wind, but the rain still pooled in deep, murky puddles that soaked through their boots.
Finn, ever curious, wandered ahead and stopped near a street vendor hawking jars of glowing liquid. "What's that stuff?" he asked, pointing at the jars.
"Neon nectar," the vendor replied. "Keeps you awake for days. Or kills you. Depends on your constitution."
Finn raised an eyebrow. "Sounds promising."
"Yeah, no," Isla said, grabbing his arm again. "We're not buying anything that sounds like it belongs in a sci-fi horror movie."
"Smart girl," Shugg muttered. "Stick with chestnuts, kid. At least they won't turn you into a science experiment."
Turning another corner, they stopped short. The woman stood in the middle of the street, her cloak shifting like a phantom. This time, she held a lantern, its faint glow cutting through the gloom.
"Okay, that's creepy," Max whispered.
"Creepy's relative," Shugg replied, his tone light despite the tension in the air. "She hasn't thrown lightning bolts or started chanting in Latin yet, so I'd say we're doing fine."
The woman raised a hand, not in greeting but in a slow, deliberate motion that seemed to command the storm itself. For a moment, the rain seemed to hesitate, as if holding its breath. Then she turned and vanished into the shadows once more.
"Who is she?" Isla murmured, her voice barely audible over the rain.
"Who knows?" Shugg said. "But one thing's for sure, she's got a hell of a sense of timing."
Finn glanced back at the spot where the woman had stood. "Do you think we'll see her again?"
"Kid," Shugg said with a grin, "if we don't, I'll count it as a lucky break. Now let's move. The storm's getting cranky, and I don't want to be here when it throws a tantrum."
The rain lashed harder as the family moved deeper into the city, every step a battle against the storm's relentless grip. The streets grew narrower, buildings leaning so close they seemed to whisper to one another, their windows streaked with decades of grime. Pools of water gathered in every dip and crevice, shimmering faintly with oil and debris.
The family finally reached the edge of an open square where the storm seemed to gather its strength, the rain swirling in chaotic spirals around a central figure. She stood there, waiting for them. Her lantern, now extinguished, hung loosely in her hand, and the pale folds of her cloak clung to her frame like a second skin.
Shugg stopped first, his boots splashing in the shallow water pooling at his feet. "Well, looks like we're the ones late to the party," he muttered, his hand hovering near the knife at his belt.
"Who are you?" Isla demanded, stepping forward despite the trembling in her voice. The wind pulled at her hair, whipping it across her face as she glared at the woman. "Why have you been following us?"
The woman tilted her head, her expression unreadable. When she spoke, her voice was soft yet carried clearly over the storm, as if the wind itself had bent to her will. "Following? No, child. I have merely been... observing."
"Observing what?" Max asked, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of his tone.
"You," the woman said simply. Her gaze swept over each of them, her eyes lingering on Finn last. "You who have been chosen."
"Chosen for what?" Shugg demanded, his voice sharp as steel.
The woman's lips curved into a faint smile, though it held no warmth. "To play."
With a flick of her wrist, she produced four gleaming objects from within her cloak. They shimmered faintly even in the storm's gloom, their surfaces etched with intricate, glowing patterns. She stepped forward, holding them out for the family to see.
"Gamepasses," she said, her voice laced with something that sounded suspiciously like amusement.
Finn took an unconscious step forward, his wide eyes fixed on the glowing objects. "Are those... for us?"
The woman chuckled, a sound as fleeting as the lightning overhead. "For you, yes. A gift, of sorts. Or perhaps... a challenge." She moved closer, her presence somehow both ethereal and oppressive.
Shugg held up a hand, stopping Finn from taking another step. "What's the catch?"
The woman's smile widened. "There is no catch. Only a choice. Accept them, and your path will be set. Refuse..." She let the word hang in the air, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Well, refusal is its own kind of choice."
Isla crossed her arms, glaring at the woman. "Why us?"
"Why not?" the woman replied, her tone almost playful. "After all, aren't you tired of surviving? Of trudging through the mud, day after day, storm after storm? This... this is an opportunity. A chance to rise above the storm, to become something more."
"And if we say no?" Max asked, his jaw tightening.
The woman shrugged, as though the answer didn't matter. "Then I'll find others. There is no shortage of players willing to take their place on the board."
The tempest circled them, the wind carrying her words as if they were carved into the rain itself. Shugg's hand flexed near his belt, but he didn't move. Instead, he locked eyes with the woman, his jaw set. "If this is a game, then I don't like the rules already."
The woman laughed softly, her cloak billowing in the wind. "You don't need to like the rules, old man. You only need to play."
With that, she extended the gamepasses further, their glow intensifying. One by one, she placed them into the family's hands, the warmth of the objects a stark contrast to the cold rain.
Finn stared down at his pass, his expression a mix of awe and fear. "What happens now?" he asked quietly.
The woman's smile faded, her gaze turning distant. "Now," she said, her voice almost a whisper, "the storm begins." Her gaze locked on Shugg, her eyes gleaming with a cruel light. "The man who thinks he can drown his demons in a bottle. Tell me, does it help, Shugg? Or do you still hear their voices when the whiskey runs dry?"
Shugg's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing, but he said nothing.
The woman turned to Isla, her smile almost pitying. "And you, always trying to hold it all together. You think you can keep them safe, but you know deep down that you can't protect them from everything."
Max shifted uneasily, and her gaze moved to him. "The brave face, the jokes... but I see the fear. The fear that you won't be enough when it matters."
Finally, her eyes rested on Finn, her voice softening. "And you, little one. So eager to prove yourself, to be more than they expect. But tell me, what will you do when the storm tests you? Will you still laugh, or will you break?"
She straightened, her cloak billowing in the wind. "Remember this, all of you. The game is fair, and the storm doesn't care who it breaks."
Before they could respond, the wind surged, swallowing her words and extinguishing her form. The family shielded their faces against the gale, and when they looked again, the square was empty. The only evidence of her presence was the faint glow of the gamepasses in their hands.
Shugg exhaled, his breath a visible cloud in the storm's chill. "Well," he said, his voice heavy, "guess we're playing whether we like it or not."
The family stood there for a long moment, the downpour pressing against them like a living thing. Then, without a word, they turned and walked on, the faint light of the gamepasses their only guide through the rain.