was unexpected,” Zoë mutters as she flops into the driver’s seat of the Jeep.
“I know. A little overwhelming too, I’m guessing.”
“After everything that’s been thrown in our faces the past couple days, this is probably the easiest to handle.”
I smile at her. “I’m glad you found the answers you needed. And more.”
Zoë’s face fills with a genuine smile. “So how about before we get back on the road, we drive down the street to that Dunkin’ Donuts we passed on the way here and get us some coffee and donuts?”
“That is literally my favorite thing you have ever said.”
***
Twenty minutes later we are sugar and caffeine filled. The highway portion of our trip has ended and the remainder of our drive will be across state routes and side roads. There is more navigating needed on my part, therefore less time to read.
I guide Zoë to the correct routes 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.
When we finally make it on to a long stretch of road, I pull out the journal Eliza has given us. I carefully handle it, somehow feeling that it is more precious than the ones I already have. The leather stretches and crackles as I open the cover. I flip to the first written passage, ready to read, and discover it is not written in English. I flip through the next few pages, and then a few more. “I think we have a problem. These are all in French. Or at least I think its French. I recognize a few words, but for the most part, I’m clueless.”
“Well that’s disappointing. I wonder why she gave them to us.”
Starting at the back of the journal, I flip through all of the pages at once. There are multiple stories, all in different handwriting. They are varying degrees of faded, the most legible ink toward the back of the book. “There has to be a way to interpret these stories,” I think out loud. “She wouldn’t just give us something that we couldn’t read and tell us how important it is.”
“Maybe she just assumed we could speak French?”
I shoot her a glare.
“What? Maybe it’s a witch thing.”
“Maybe there’s something in the other journal that can help with this one. Or maybe something in the grimoire.”
“Let’s just wait until we get to the colony and we can look through everything together. Right now, just be my navigator.”
It takes us another ninety minutes to reach Roque Bluffs. It’s such a small whisper of a town that if we had missed one turn, we would have missed the whole town entirely. The map of the state doesn’t include any information about the area specifically, but my dad has included a smaller map printed from the internet with specific instructions. The road we are looking for is unmarked and the handwritten note from my dad tells us it will be identifiable by a break in the trees and a black mailbox atop a red post, looking like a long, winding driveway to a hidden home.
After about ten minutes of driving at a snail’s pace down the damp, winding road, the red post finally comes in to view.
“There it is!” I exclaim, startling Zoë.
She turns the Jeep onto the narrow dirt road and follows the rocky dirt path that begins to climb a hill once it is under the cover of the trees.
12. INTRODUCTIONS
The colony couldn’t be more hidden away from view if the founders tried. I can’t help but think that the reason Zoë’s parents bought her a Jeep, was for climbing the steep, bumpy terrain that leads up the rocky hillside. I am forced to hold on to the bar above the doorframe to keep myself balanced in my seat.
Just as we think we can’t possibly survive another moment of the so-called drive, we reach a clearing in the woods. There it stands. A tall, beige colored building that looks like a large, multi-story ultra modern house.
The very small, sparse windows are made of thick, glass block. A white cement staircase zigzags up the exterior of the building with an entry door at each of the three levels. Next to each door is a wall mounted black box with a small computer screen that I assume is their security system. Red lights hang above each door and a loud speaker is perched next to each.
A concrete driveway gradually emerges from the