The rain slammed on the glass of the dilapidated police car, obscuring the already fuzzy vista of the Azure Peaks. Liam O'Connell groaned, rubbing a hand over his sleepy eyes. He'd been driving for hours, the repetitive beat of the wipers a dreary accompaniment to the growing discomfort in his belly.
Exile. That's what this was. A forced move to a place so remote, it scarcely registered on the map. A penalty for treading on the wrong toes, for asking questions he wasn't meant to ask. He'd been a good officer, darn excellent, but in the city, good wasn't enough. Politics, favors, backroom deals - it was a nasty game, and he'd refused to participate.
Now, he was here, in this wet, secluded corner of the globe, a world of fog-shrouded peaks and whispering pines. A realm that seemed as far apart from the concrete jungle of the metropolis as humanly conceivable.
He drew the cruiser to a halt in front of the town's police station, a modest, inconspicuous facility that appeared more like a weather-beaten cottage than a seat of law enforcement. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the fog still clung to the mountains, concealing anything beyond a few hundred feet.
He stepped out of the vehicle, stretching his weary muscles. The air was chilly, damp, and rich with the aroma of pine and moist dirt. It was a dramatic contrast to the city's dirty air, yet he couldn't deny a certain sensation of… serenity. Or maybe it was only the lack of the continual noise, the sirens, the yelling, the unceasing stream of human drama.
He climbed up the stairs, his boots reverberating on the wooden porch. Inside, the station was modest, simply a single room with a few desks, a file cabinet, and a coffee maker that looked like it had seen better days. A lone cop, a middle-aged guy with a worn countenance and a potbelly, sat at one of the desks, reading a newspaper.
"You O'Connell?" the officer inquired, throwing down the newspaper.
"Yeah," Liam answered, offering a hand. "Liam O'Connell."
"Sheriff Brody," the officer replied, shaking his hand. "Welcome to Haven's Peak. Not much occurs here, normally. Mostly just hikers getting lost, or the rare bear straying into town."
"Sounds… peaceful," Liam remarked, attempting a grin.
"Peaceful can get boring," Brody replied with a grin. "Anyway, your home is ready. Small cottage up on the hill, overlooking the town. Not much, but it's dry."
"Thanks," Liam replied. "Anything I should know about?"
"Not really," Brody answered, shrugging. "Just the normal small-town nonsense. Everyone knows everyone, everyone minds everyone else's business. Or at least, they pretend to. Oh, and keep an eye out for Elara Vance. Lives up in the heights, true lonesome type. Bit of a local mythology, some think she speaks to trees."
"Talks to trees?" Liam lifted an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you know, a bit eccentric," Brody remarked, waving his hand dismissively. "But harmless. Mostly. Anyway, you'll meet everyone in time. Right now, go get situated in, then come back tomorrow and we can get you familiar with the paperwork."
Liam nodded, took the keys to his cabin, and stepped back out into the mist. The journey up the hill was brief, but the route was twisting and steep. The cottage, when he eventually reached there, was modest and primitive, but it was clean and dry, just as Brody had stated.
He unloaded his few items, poured a pot of instant coffee, and got into an old recliner near the window. The vista was beautiful, even in the fog. The mountains loomed around the town, their summits shrouded in the whirling mist. It was a world of green and gray, a world of peace and seclusion.
He thought of his previous life, the city, the noise, the mayhem. He thought about the case that had led him here, the one he'd been instructed to dismiss. He thought of the individuals he'd trusted, the ones who had deceived him.
He sighed, running a hand over his hair. He was sleepy, and bone-tired, yet he couldn't escape the sense that he was being watched. He peeked out the window, but the fog was too thick. He couldn't see anything.
He got up, walked to the door, and stepped out onto the porch. The air was chilly, wet, and motionless. He listened, but he couldn't hear anything save the faint sound of the wind whispering through the trees.
He strolled to the edge of the porch, staring into the fog. He couldn't escape the sensation that something was out there, watching him.
Suddenly, a twig broke in the woods nearby. Liam's hand immediately flew to his side, but he was unarmed. He'd left his service weapon in the cruiser.
He held his breath, listening. Silence. Then, another crack, closer this time.
He turned, studying the woods, his eyes trying to see through the fog. He spotted a glimpse of movement, a shadow passing through the woods.
He took a step forward, then another, heading towards the gloom. He couldn't see anything clearly, but he could feel a presence, a sensation of… something.
The shadow shifted again, and he saw it clearly for a second. A little, pallid figure, gliding with a weird, almost inhuman elegance. It was gone in a second, disappearing into the fog.
Liam stood paralyzed, his head whirling. What had he just seen? It couldn't be genuine. But he'd seen it, felt its presence.
He turned and walked back inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the door, his pulse thumping in his chest. He was a policeman, a sensible guy, yet he couldn't deny what he'd witnessed.
He walked back to the recliner, his thoughts racing. He was in a weird realm, a land of secrets and shadows. And he had a sensation that he was going to become a part of those secrets.