“Ah, Section X,” said Daxton as he stepped down, two armed guards at his side. “What a delight it is to return to such a familiar place.”
I knew exactly where I was: we stood in the spot where the factory used to be. All that marked it now was a twisted lump of melted metal. And it was, in fact, the very section Christopher had run with his brother, Jonathan. He had lived there much longer than I had, and if I could picture what the street used to be, he undoubtedly could, too.
“Shall we?” said Daxton, and it wasn’t a request. He strolled toward the hill nearby, where Mercer Manor had once stood. There was nothing left but charred stone now.
Greyson and I followed him up what had once been the sloping pathway. The gate had melted away, and part of me hoped it would be impossible to tell
