Recorded April 19, 2017, 12:52 a.m.
The group hunkers in an empty room. The wallpaper is covered in flowers, the same sort that filled the old Briar Glen. Trina sits cross-legged on the floor, idly paging through the preacher’s book, her lips shaping indecipherable words. Kyle leans against the wall; the rest stand uneasily as Grace keeps watch at the door.
MEL: You said that you could get us out of here. We’ve been wandering around for hours.
GRACE: The thing you have to know about the road is that it’s not the thing that’s going to kill you. Three rules. Simple. Follow those and you can just work your way along the road, no problem.
MEL: No problem? I told you, we’ve already lost two people.
GRACE: You’ve done better than us. By the time I got here, I was the only one left. But the thing is, most of the time it’s not the road that kills you. It’s the things on it.
MEL: What’s the difference?
Grace grunts, as if this should be obvious.
GRACE: They’re not from the road. It doesn’t want them here. It wants people to walk it. That’s what a road needs. Travelers, going from point A to point B. The trouble is, this road’s got no point A. No point B. You kill a person by stopping their heart. You kill a road by stopping its purpose.
Her voice rasps and rattles as she whispers, the words slushing into each other. Trina looks back at Mel and the camera, mouth pursed a little, uncertain.
MEL: Okay. Well. We need to find our friend.
GRACE: Right. Six of you. Two by two by two. That’s the way through. Here’s the thing—as long as you follow the rules, the road’s not that dangerous. Breaking the rules hurts it. It’s like a cut. A cut can get infected. Bacteria. Parasites. They want to feed. Break the rules, and you let them in. Let them in, and they can hurt you.
MEL: Solid advice. But again, we need to find our friend. Sara. And Becca—she was here, too.
Grace gives her a flat, unreadable look.
GRACE: Becca? No. No, I don’t know anyone named Becca. No one in here. Listen, you won’t find your friend. Safer to go. We have the numbers. Two and two and two.
JEREMY: She has a point. We have to be smart about this.
Grace grunts again, this time amused.
GRACE: Smart? You’ve been careless. Let the beast get your scent. You think the gates will protect you, but the beast strides between. Step one inch out of line and it’ll find you in a blink. Cut you to ribbons.
Jeremy swallows, eyes wide.
ANTHONY: Look, we’re not leaving without Sara. Right?
MEL: Right.
They look at Trina. It takes her a moment to realize they’re waiting for her to speak. She looks up from the book. There is something strange about the light against her eyes.
TRINA: What? Right. Sara. No, we can’t leave without Sara.
Grace is silent for several seconds, then she nods.
GRACE: Right. Loyalty. That’s good, that’s a good thing. All right. We’ll look for her. Don’t worry, I’ve been here a long time. I know the tricks. You’re safe with me.
Mel drops back from Grace. She mutters under her breath.
MEL: Yeah, I definitely feel safe . . .
ANTHONY: Just stick close to each other. We’ll be fine.
He doesn’t sound convinced.