Chapter Ten

Kennebunkport, Maine

Earlier in the night

Katherine was eating out in a restaurant not far from the ocean in a new restaurant called Lonely Dove, accompanied by her sister, Annie, who decided her appetite had been despoiled by grief. Annie had settled for a small salad with a tassie of water. Katherine ordered salmon, garlic bread, tofu, and a glass of Lambrusco red wine. There were a lot of men and women around them, clinking glasses and enjoying their Sunday night. 

They'd arrived by car, left the vehicle in a parking lot, and walked the rest of the way. 

When they got here, they were a little on edge. Their only hope for the night was that the prices would be low, but even in a small town like Kennebunkport, inflation was a big deal. In a way, they had to keep their wits about them. Pay attention to the prices, Annie had told her before they arrived, they like to charge extra sometimes; and if we can't afford anything we're better off eating someplace else. 

The restaurant had been aesthetic, at least. The sign outside had greeted them with beautiful letters, proclaiming the name of the business. Neon blue. A scintillating facade – about four axe-handles wide – that had been without question one of the more immaculate designs in the township. Inside was no different. Walls were painted over with white and housed buzzing fluorescent lights stretching up from the ground floor; they illuminated the interior with a soft, shimmering, blue aura. 

The crimson carpet had been inviting, for the most part. Katherine paid notice to it upon taking a seat somewhere in the centre of the wide and open room. Soft, gentle, relaxing. Just like the classical music that floated throughout the ambience of the building. 

"Did you enjoy the night out, as poor as the circumstances were?" Katherine asked her sister, who sat on the opposite side of the table wearing a black funeral dress. Those eyes, Katherine could not forget. She had her father's dark-blue eyes. 

"Yes." Annie beamed, and then pulled a smartphone out from her handbag. "The food reminds me of . . . Mom's old cooking, as funny as it is. She used to make salads and I'd remember detesting them until one day I enjoyed them. Funny. But true."

At least Annie wasn't close-mouthed like her mother. It made it easy to communicate with her, Katherine once told Carlos over a call. Easy and smooth. 

"Mom did make nice food," Katherine replied. "Better than Dad's and better than Grandma's. But not better than mine." 

"Dad wasn't the best cook," Annie added. "I still miss him, though." Her voice gave that punctured sound; you know, that sound that people often conjure up when they're teary or on the verge of letting it all out. It was easy to miss, but hard to forget. 

"You know, one day, they'll find a cure. And when they do, nobody will have to go through the same shit again. I can promise you that."

"Can you, though?" Annie said, finishing the last drops of water in her tassie. "In the past decade all we've managed to do is drive this planet to the brink of extinction; if that's your idea of a cure, so be it. I know Dad used to work in a developmental company and is partly the reason we haven't made many discoveries with cures and whatnot. He told me they were too focused on the future, on preserving light-powered machines to create a utopia. 

"I hope he was wrong, and that they're not just looking to create more game-esque machinery. Remember when he came home with all those mechanical arms and boxes of God knows what? Those were all the failed inventions at his workplace, but he always thought he could make something of them. I think that's why he cared so little about finding cures, especially since he had the credentials to do it. He was a smart man."

After an awkward moment of silence, Katherine gave a loud, silly laugh, and took a sip from her wine, realising she'd finished almost all of it. 

"Oh, my!" she gushed. "How long have we been here? Since tenish, right?" She pulled out her phone and checked the time: 11:54 P.M.

"It doesn't close till one; amazing how people eat out this late," Annie said. "We should probably not stay till the closing time. Just saying." She brushed back a sheaf of her auburn hair and giggled.

"Riii-ight," Katherine mused. Looking around, she gesticulated for the nearest waiter to come by. 

The waiter did so, came over to the table with his broad shoulders and sharp, defined face, dressed from head to foot in a black-and-white outfit. "Yes, Madam?" he said in a French accent. 

"Cheque, please." Katherine smiled coquettishly 

Turning back, he said, "Right away, Madam." 

And nodded. 

There was nothing but the relaxing music of the restaurant and people continuing to gossip to one another. It sounded like hazed background noise. And it made Katherine think about how the average person possessed an inherent ability to block out those sounds and concentrate on one particular conversation. She smirked at the thought.

Katherine steepled her fingers and glanced over at two women, whose faces grimaced with an emotion she couldn't quite describe. Was it panic? Fear? She could not tell.

They were staring into the first woman's phone, mouths agape. They got up from their seats and screeeeched the chairs backwards, headed for the exit and left the building. All in the space of maybe ten or fifteen seconds. Then more people began panicking, blabbering to each other nervously in a tumult. About what?

"What the—" Annie shot up from her phone and saw the customers gibbering about. 

Then, they heard it, in the warmth of the Lonely Dove: a howl? A shout? A bellow? No; Katherine recognised the sound immediately as that of a low, suppressed hum, echoing far away in the distance. 

Her eyes widened. 

What is that? she thought

Bolting up from her seat, she grabbed her purse and rushed towards the exit. As she did so, the waiter returned with the cheque folder. "Madam?" he yelled, looking a little confused. But Katherine had already been more than halfway out the door; Annie paid him instead. Then she followed Katherine to wherever she was going. 

"Where are you going?!" Annie said after snatching her handbag off the dining table. 

But Katherine kept her silence as she left the building, and saw a blue streak of light in the night sky, elongating far into the distant horizon, followed discreetly by the winter starlight.

The cold winds were just beginning to strengthen, but Katherine couldn't help but continue searching for the source of the light, even if the weather was a bit pissy. 

The light was captivating, unlike anything she'd ever seen before. 

She quickened her pace behind the building. The hem of her coat blew against the wind and dipped into large puddles of rainwater on the path. She passed by so many people that she eventually lost count of how many there were. And Annie, who was a little disgruntled, found it difficult to navigate through the darkness.

She followed behind, yelling, "Kat! Where the fuck are you going?!"

Annie got her answer; she stopped alongside Katherine on the edge of the Main Street intersection. There up above, miles away in the far-off distance, with rings of purple and blue, so majestic and awe-inspiring, was a gigantic spiral amongst the star-lit sky. The hum was a little louder now. They had no idea what it was or where it came from; it was just . . . there.

Katherine was terrified.