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It’s too late for safe.

“No. Do you know where the Serpents are?”

Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. I wonder if she regrets picking me up.

“I can’t help you there,” she says. “But I’ll take you to town.”

The truck moves forward, gravel crunching beneath the tires as the sky begins to pale with the coming morning. Light seeps into the world, but it does nothing to comfort me. I’m only more exposed.

The silence stretches between us, letting all my thoughts attack at once. The passing rows of corn are a quiet echo of where I’ve been and what I’ve lost.

“You want to talk about what happened tonight?” She glances over, and I snap out of my daze.

Thin scratches streak my exposed arms with dried blood, and I brush my fingers over them absently. The smell of iron is unrelenting.

I shake my head.

A sign appears ahead, standing tall out in the corn. ‘Welcome to Shadow Bluff. Where the sun sets sooner.’ The painted sunset was probably once serene with soft gold bleeding into red. Now the paint is peeling and weathered.

“This town isn’t safe,” she says as lights begin to appear in the distance. “Not at night, not ever.”

“Why not?”

“Full of criminals,” she mutters.

The glimmer of water comes into view, cutting through the earth in a wide seam.

“What river is that?”

“That’s the Mississippi, hun.” She looks at me with confusion. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

I’m far from home. Even farther than I thought. Des Moines is a couple hundred miles back west. Now I’m facing the sunlight as it bursts from the horizon.

We crest a hill and the land drops away. Buildings appear below, nestled together in the valley of a quaint little town. We must be on the bluff it was named for.

We come to a T in the road, right at the edge where gravel meets pavement, and the woman brings the truck to a stop.

“Over there,” she says, pointing to the left at a beautiful church overlooking the town, its stained-glass rose window burning red in the coming dawn. “That’s your safest bet. The reverend there might be the only thing saving this place. Has a daughter about your age. A good girl. She did some detasseling on my farm some five years back.”

I nod my understanding.

She sighs, refusing to drive any closer. “You sure I can’t take you over to Brightridge?”

There’s nothing for me there. The only choice is Shadow Bluff.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Go straight to the church, then. You hear me? Not down into town. This is about the time those freaks go back into hiding. Might as well burst into flames in the daylight like the vampires they are.”

She looks down her nose at the grid of quiet buildings. It’s too early for any cars to be moving on the streets. I can’t imagine criminals taking over this sleepy town, but her lip curls with disdain.

I nod and warily grab the door handle. “Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself.” Her final words are accompanied by a look of concern. I’m not sure if she can tell that I’m insufficient in that department or if I’m truly walking into a trap.

I step out onto the ground, my feet aching with every movement, and begin the short walk to the church. The woman waits a few minutes, watching until I reach the parking lot. Then she speeds off in the opposite direction.

Up close, the church is extraordinary, built with beauty in mind. The rose window in the front is the focal piece, but the pointed arch windows around the building are just as gorgeous. There’s a lit sign in the grass for the Sacred Spirit Church, and it’s the only source of light on this road.