The vibration started in Ezra's molars.
He was sitting in Mara's armchair, the rifle across his knees. The wood was warm. The fire crackled. Ryder was asleep on the couch, wrapped in three blankets. Ash sat on the floor, staring at the fireplace.
Then the teeth hummed. Bzzzz.
Ezra clenched his jaw. The sound wasn't outside. It was inside the bone.
He looked at Ash. The boy's hands were pressed to his temples. His eyes were closed. His face was pale. Grey. Like hers.
"North Ridge," Ash whispered.
Ezra stood. The rifle butt clicked against the floor. "How far?"
"Ten miles," Ash said. "They're deep."
Ezra walked to the window. Mara's house sat high on the ridge. He could see the coastline. The ocean was flat. Grey. But the water near the North Ridge was churning. White foam. Boiling.
