4338.210 · July 29, 2018 AD
The Cliff They Can't See
The smell of chilli drags Kain from his caravan. He didn't want to face anyone—not Chris, not Karen, not the weight of his own failures. But hunger wins. And then he meets them. Grant and Sarah Ironbach. Confident. Impatient. Planning their return to a sanctuary that no longer exists for them. Kain recognises the cliff edge. He stood there three days ago. They don't know the ground is already gone.
Kain has been hiding. The caravan walls have become his excuse, his shell, his shield against a world that keeps demanding more than he has left to give. His leg throbs. His guilt festers. The thought of facing Chris, of navigating the minefield of everything unsaid, keeps him pinned to the mattress.
Then the smell finds him. Paul's chilli, curling through the cracked window, wrapping around his brain until his stomach answers with a growl that startles Henri awake.
He ventures out. He meets the newcomers.
Grant and Sarah Ironbach aren't confused or frightened. They're impatient. They discuss assessment schedules and survey routes and a rehabilitation release next month that needs Grant's oversight. They speak of Bonorong like it's waiting for them. They mention someone named Melanie—the woman who recruited them, who showed them portals, who prepared them carefully for a journey she knew they'd never return from.
They weren't kidnapped. They were cultivated.
Kain watches them plan a future that doesn't exist, and recognises in their confidence the same precipice he stood upon days ago. The moment before the fall. The breath before the world rearranges itself into something unrecognisable.
The ground has already crumbled.
They just don't know it yet.
