Within the silence

chapter 8

The highway stretched out before them, a winding ribbon cutting through dense woods and open fields. Lance kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other drumming absently on the console. Ivy sat in the passenger seat, a map spread across her lap and a flashlight rolling back and forth near her knee with every turn. The trunk was packed with their supplies: rope, gloves, notebooks, and extra batteries. Neither of them had said much since they left, but the tension in the car was palpable.

Ivy finally broke the silence. “We should be there in about twenty minutes,” she said, tracing their route on the map with her finger. “If this thing is still standing, it’s going to be tucked deep in the woods, near the old mining district.”

Lance nodded, his jaw set. “Do we know anything about the mine itself? I mean, is it active at all?”

“Not since the sixties,” Ivy replied, shaking her head. “The whole town dried up after the mine shut down. It’s a ghost town now, just like we figured. But the archive... If it’s there, it was probably a private building, not something locals would’ve used.”

“Which makes it perfect for Dominion,” Lance muttered, his eyes fixed on the road. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

---

The sun was beginning to dip below the treeline when they reached Edenvale. The town was a husk of its former self—dilapidated houses leaned against each other like drunks at closing time, their roofs sagging and windows shattered. Ivy tightened her jacket around herself as they parked at the edge of the main street, the sound of the car door shutting echoing like a gunshot in the stillness.

“This place gives me the creeps,” she admitted, glancing around. A faint breeze carried the scent of decay and damp earth, tugging at the overgrown weeds cracking through the pavement.

“Let’s not stick around longer than we need to,” Lance said, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. He pulled out a flashlight and gestured toward the far end of town. “The map in the book put the archive that way. East of Main Street, near the treeline.”

They moved carefully, their footsteps crunching on the gravel. The buildings around them were little more than shells—collapsed walls and skeletal frames overrun by nature. Lance scanned the area as they walked, his hand hovering near his pocket where he’d tucked a folding knife.

Finally, they reached the edge of the woods, and there it was: a squat stone building, its facade nearly obscured by ivy and moss. It looked more like a bunker than an archive, with no visible windows and a single rusted metal door. Ivy hesitated, her flashlight beam dancing over the cracks in the stone.

“This has to be it,” she said, glancing at Lance. “It matches the description from the book.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving closer. “But it doesn’t look like it’s been touched in decades. Let’s hope no one’s been keeping an eye on it.”

He tested the door, giving it a gentle push. It groaned but didn’t budge. Lance stepped back, searching the ground until he found a heavy piece of debris. With a couple of well-placed strikes near the rusted hinge, the door creaked open, the sound echoing into the dark interior.

Ivy peered inside, her flashlight revealing a narrow stone staircase leading downward. The air that wafted up was cold and stale, carrying a faint metallic tang. “A basement,” she said, her voice hushed. “No wonder this place stayed hidden.”

“Let’s check it out,” Lance said, stepping inside first. He turned back to offer her his hand as she followed. The stairs were uneven, their surfaces slick with damp moss, but they managed to reach the bottom without incident.

The room they entered was small but clearly purpose-built. Metal shelving units lined the walls, their contents covered by dusty tarps. In the centre of the room sat a large wooden table, its surface scattered with papers, ledgers, and a few old lanterns. Ivy approached one of the shelves, pulling back the tarp to reveal rows of binders, their spines labelled in faded ink.

“‘Project Dominion—Phase II,’” she read aloud, her eyes widening. “Lance, look at this.”

He was already at the table, flipping through one of the papers. “These are plans. Schematics for something.” He squinted at the text, shaking his head/ht toward the wall behind the table, where the symbol from the book had been carved directly into the stone. It was larger here, more imposing, its sharp angles casting long shadows.

“They weren’t hiding,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “They were marking this place. Like they wanted it to be found... but only by someone who knew what to look for.”

Lance followed her gaze, his face grim. “And we’re not the only ones who’ve been here.” He pointed to the floor, where fresh scuff marks marred the layer of dust. “Someone’s been through here recently.”

Ivy’s stomach turned. “We need to grab what we can and get out of here. Now.”

They moved quickly, filling their bags with papers, a few binders, and one of the lanterns. Ivy kept glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. The room seemed to press in on her, the air growing heavier with every passing moment.

Finally, they climbed back up the stairs and emerged into the evening light. The quiet of the woods was almost deafening after the tension of the archive. Lance slammed the door shut behind them, wedging a rock against it as a temporary lock.

“Did we get enough?” Ivy asked, her voice breathless.

“I hope so,” Lance replied, adjusting the strap on his bag. “But whatever’s in these files, Ivy... it’s bigger than anything we’ve seen so far.”

They made their way back to the car, their nerves frayed but their resolve stronger than ever. As they drove away from Edenvale, neither of them could shake the feeling that they were now being followed—not by footsteps, but by the shadow of something vast and unseen.

The hum of the car engine was the only sound between them as Lance and Ivy sped down the empty road, leaving Edenvale behind. The sky had darkened into a deep navy, the last rays of the sun long gone. Ivy sat with the leather-bound book open on her lap, her flashlight flicking over its pages intermittently as they drove. Her face was set in a thoughtful frown, but her fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the book.

“We need to stop,” Lance said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ivy glanced at him, startled. “What?”

“To eat. To regroup. To think.” He flicked his eyes from the road to her briefly. “You’re running on fumes, and I can’t process half of what we just found with my stomach growling like this.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, fine. There’s got to be something open this late.”

About fifteen minutes later, the glow of a neon sign appeared on the horizon, buzzing faintly in the otherwise dark landscape. "Maddie’s Diner" blinked in gaudy pink and green, its parking lot sparsely populated with a couple of trucks and a battered sedan. Lance pulled into a spot near the entrance, and they both climbed out, their bags slung over their shoulders.

The diner smelled of coffee and fried food, the comforting aroma cutting through the tension of the evening. Ivy slid into a booth near the back while Lance ordered for them—a couple of burgers, fries, and coffees, the simplest thing he could think of. When he returned, he set the tray down and plopped into the seat across from her.

Ivy wasted no time, pulling out a binder from her bag and flipping it open. “Okay,” she said, her voice low. “We need to go over everything we grabbed. Piece by piece.”

“Agreed.” Lance sipped his coffee and leaned forward, unfolding a large map they’d taken from the archive. It was yellowed with age, marked with a grid pattern and a series of coded annotations. “This was tucked under one of the shelves. I think it’s a map of Dominion’s operations—or maybe where they used to be.”

“Look at these symbols,” Ivy said, pointing to several marks scattered across the map. Some were circled in red, others underlined in blue. “These could be meeting points, safe houses, or... I don’t know, something worse.”

“And then there’s this,” Lance said, holding up a typewritten page filled with dates and names. He pointed to the top of the page, where the word "Dominion Phase II" was typed in bold. “It’s like a roster, but not just of people. Look at the notes next to the names—‘promoted,’ ‘terminated,’ ‘in transition.’ It’s like they were tracking everyone.”

Ivy’s stomach tightened. “This is more organised than I thought. We’re not just talking about a shadowy organisation pulling strings here and there—they’re structured, Lance. They have phases, operations, records...”

“And it looks like they’ve been active for decades,” Lance added grimly. He turned the map toward her. “This goes back to the sixties. Maybe further.”

Their food arrived, but neither of them touched it at first. The weight of what they’d uncovered settled heavily over the table. Ivy finally broke the silence, taking a slow sip of her coffee.

“We can’t do this alone,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the binder in front of her. “This is too big, too dangerous. If Dominion’s been watching us—and I think they are—this could get us killed.”

Lance leaned back, his fingers drumming on the edge of the table. “Ivy, who can we trust? Bringing someone else in means risking exposure. If the wrong person finds out what we’re digging into...”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “But we’re out of our depth. This map, these names, this thing—we need someone who knows how to decode it. Someone who can help us figure out what the hell Dominion is actually doing.”

Lance rubbed a hand over his face, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But we need to be smart about it. No emails, no phone calls—nothing traceable. And whoever we bring in has to understand what they’re signing up for.”

“Agreed,” Ivy said. She glanced down at the binder again, her eyes narrowing. “We should focus on this map first. If Dominion is real, and if they’re this connected, we need to know what these locations mean.”

“And if they’re still active,” Lance added grimly.

The room fell into silence again as they both began eating, though their focus remained on the materials sprawled across the table. Outside, the neon lights of the diner cast faint shadows on the glass, flickering like a warning neither of them could ignore.

As Ivy studied the map, her finger traced one of the circled locations. “Here,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “This spot—it’s close. A couple of towns over. We should check it out.”

Lance followed her gaze and nodded, his jaw tightening. “Then that’s our next move. First thing tomorrow.”

The two sat for a moment longer, their exhaustion showing in the slump of their shoulders. But there was a shared determination between them, a silent agreement that whatever Dominion was hiding, they wouldn’t stop until they uncovered the truth.