Still Alive

Chapter 7

The miles between the sign and the town felt longer than they should have.

Maya drove slower without realizing it, her eyes moving constantly—road, trees, mirrors, back to the road again. The GPS said she was almost there, but it didn’t feel like arriving.

It felt like entering.

The trees thinned out first.

Then the road widened just enough to suggest something ahead.

And then—

Red Hollow.

It didn’t announce itself loudly.

No traffic.

No noise.

Just houses appearing one by one, set back from the road, each one quiet in its own way.

Maya’s eyes moved over them carefully.

Cars sat in driveways.

More than she expected.

Sedans, trucks, older models that looked like they’d been there a while—but not abandoned. Just… still.

A porch with a chair angled slightly toward the street.

A set of wind chimes shifting lightly in the breeze.

A curtain pulled halfway back in a window.

Life was there.

But it didn’t feel active.

It felt paused.

Maya drove further in.

The town slowly gathered into something more recognizable—a main strip, a few connected buildings, small storefronts with signs that had seen better years.

That’s when she noticed them.

Posters.

At first, just one.

Taped to a pole.

Black and white.

A face in the center.

She almost missed it.

Then another.

On the window of a small shop.

Then another.

And another.

Maya’s foot eased off the gas.

Her eyes sharpened.

They were everywhere.

Telephone poles.

Storefront glass.

A corkboard outside what looked like a convenience store.

Different faces.

Different names.

All the same format.

Missing.

Her chest tightened slightly.

“…What the hell,” she murmured.

She slowed even more now, almost crawling through the street.

That’s when she saw it.

One of the posters—

had something written across it.

Thick.

Red.

Messy.

STILL ALIVE

Maya’s grip tightened on the wheel.

She passed another.

Same thing.

Different handwriting.

Same words.

STILL ALIVE

Her eyes flicked from one to the next.

More faces.

More names.

Some with the red writing.

Some without.

The town wasn’t just quiet.

It was marked.

Maya swallowed.

Not fear.

Not yet.

But something close.

Something pressing at the edges.

She kept driving.

Past the main stretch.

Back into the residential area.

And then—

her breath caught.

The house.

It sat exactly where it always had.

Same structure.

Same paint.

Same everything.

Maya slowed to a stop in the middle of the street without meaning to.

Her eyes locked onto it.

Nothing about it had changed.

Not aged.

Not worn down.

The yard looked the same.

The porch.

The windows.

It didn’t look abandoned.

It didn’t look lived in either.

It just—

looked untouched.

Like it had been sitting there…

waiting.

Maya’s chest tightened.

A memory tried to surface.

Didn’t fully form.

Just a feeling.

Heavy.

Familiar.

Her fingers tightened slightly on the wheel.

“…Not right,” she muttered.

She didn’t get out.

Didn’t move closer.

She just stared for a second longer—

then slowly pressed the gas.

And drove past it.

⸻

The motel sat on the edge of town.

Low.

Single-story.

A long row of doors with numbers beside each one.

The sign flickered faintly, but it worked.

Red Hollow Inn

Maya parked and grabbed her bag, stepping out into the still air.

It felt quieter here.

Away from the center.

Like the town thinned out the further you stepped from it.

Inside, the lobby was small.

Clean.

Outdated.

A TV played low behind the counter, some daytime show that no one was really watching.

A woman stood behind the desk.

Older.

Watching Maya before Maya even reached her.

“Need a room?” she asked.

Maya nodded.

“Yeah. Just a few nights.”

The woman’s eyes lingered on her a second longer than necessary.

“You passing through?”

Maya held her gaze.

“Something like that.”

A pause.

Then the woman nodded once and reached for the computer.

“Name?”

“Maya Thorne.”

The typing stopped.

Just for a second.

Then continued.

“You from around here?” the woman asked.

Maya didn’t answer right away.

Then—

“I used to be.”

Another pause.

Short.

Controlled.

“Mm.”

The woman slid a key across the counter.

“Room 12.”

Maya took it.

“Thanks.”

The woman didn’t smile.

Didn’t frown.

Just watched her.

Maya turned and walked out.

⸻

The room was simple.

Clean.

Bed.

Bathroom.

TV mounted on the wall.

Nothing special.

Nothing wrong.

Maya dropped her bag on the chair and stood there for a second.

Just breathing.

Taking it in.

Letting it settle.

Then she reached into her bag.

Pulled out the flyer.

Looked at it.

Then folded it again and slipped it into her jacket.

She wasn’t staying inside.

Not yet.

⸻

The town felt different on foot.

Quieter.

Closer.

Maya walked slowly, her eyes moving over everything again.

The posters stood out more now.

Up close—

the faces looked younger than she expected.

Some of them.

Teenagers.

Adults.

A mix.

The red writing looked worse up close.

Thicker.

More desperate.

Like whoever wrote it didn’t care how it looked.

Just that it was seen.

STILL ALIVE

Maya exhaled slowly.

Then—

voices.

Laughter.

She turned slightly.

A group of teens stood near the side of a*****e, leaning against the wall, half-paying attention to each other, half-watching the street.

They noticed her immediately.

Of course they did.

She wasn’t from here.

That much was obvious.

One of them nudged the other slightly.

“See,” a girl said quietly. “I told you.”

Maya walked closer.

Not hesitant.

But aware.

“You told them what?” she asked.

The group shifted slightly.

Sizing her up.

“You not from here,” the same girl said.

Maya shrugged lightly.

“Used to be.”

That got a reaction.

Small.

But there.

“Where?” one of the boys asked.

Maya tilted her head slightly.

“Why?”

He smirked.

“Just asking.”

Maya didn’t answer.

Instead, she nodded toward the nearest poster.

“What’s going on with all these?”

The group went quieter.

Not scared.

Just… cautious.

The girl spoke again.

“People been going missing.”

“I can see that.”

“More than usual,” one of the boys added.

Maya’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“More than usual?”

The girl nodded.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

They exchanged a look.

“Couple months,” she said.

“Maybe longer.”

Maya glanced at the posters again.

“There’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” the boy said. “That’s what we saying.”

Maya looked back at them.

“And nobody’s doing anything?”

They laughed.

Not like it was funny.

More like—

they expected that question.

“The sheriff says they ran off,” the girl said.

“Or moved.”

“Or whatever,” another added.

Maya’s brows pulled together.

“And you believe that?”

The girl shook her head slowly.

“No.”

Maya studied her.

“Then what do you think?”

A pause.

Then the girl leaned in just slightly.

Lowering her voice.

“They don’t leave.”

Maya’s stomach tightened slightly.

“What?”

“They don’t leave,” she repeated. “They just… gone.”

Silence settled between them.

Maya’s eyes flicked to the others.

None of them disagreed.

None of them laughed it off.

“People talk about it,” one of the boys said. “But not like that.”

“Like what?” Maya asked.

Another pause.

Then—

“You don’t come back the same,” the girl said.

Maya held her gaze.

“What does that mean?”

The girl shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

But the way she said it—

felt like she did.

Or at least—

like she knew enough.

Maya straightened slightly.

“Anybody ever find them?”

No answer.

That was answer enough.

Maya nodded once.

“Alright.”

She turned slightly.

“Be careful,” the girl said.

Maya paused.

Looked back.

The girl held her gaze.

“For real,” she added.

Maya nodded once.

Then walked away.

⸻

By the time she made it back to the motel, the sky had shifted.

Darker now.

The town quieter.

Even more than before.

Maya stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Locked it.

Then leaned back against it for a second.

Her mind ran through everything.

The posters.

The red writing.

The kids.

The way no one gave straight answers.

This wasn’t just about her dad.

This was something else.

Something bigger.

Something no one wanted to say out loud.

Maya pushed off the door and walked further into the room.

Sat on the edge of the bed.

Reached into her jacket.

Pulled out the flyer.

Looked at it.

Then looked up.

The silence pressed in around her.

Heavier now.

Because now she knew—

It wasn’t just him.

And whatever was happening in Red Hollow—

wasn’t hidden.

It was right there.

In plain sight.

And nobody was stopping it.