I stayed close to the trunks of trees to avoid being spotted but soon realized that my dad was farther in front of me than I thought. I became more brazen, hopping over fallen logs and undergrowth, hurrying so as not to miss the big event.
I was so consumed in reaching the clearing that I nearly ran straight into the middle of it without realizing. I came to a screeching halt at the edge when I saw my dad’s bright yellow gear and was brought back to reality. The rain masked any noise I made, and because I wasn’t supposed to be out here in the first place, I had no bright raincoat to give me away. On the other hand, my skin was soaked, and I was shivering down to my underwear.
Above us the generators were alive with the electricity in the atmosphere. A blue-white glimmer zipped across the cables. I stared at them, quivering, as if they were living beings. It was better than anything I’d ever seen at Disney World. Because these were real. These were science.
A roll of thunder shook the pine trees around me. I squatted behind a trunk. Dad pulled out a plastic-coated paper of some sort and eyed the sky, rotating in place, always looking up. The first fork of lightning split the clouds, making the raindrops appear like falling shards of light. It was close enough to smell the burn in the air.
My dad was smiling now, laughing. He thrust his fist over his head. He was yelling something I couldn’t hear. It made me want to laugh, too. But then the next streak of lightning burst through the clearing, and at first, I waited to celebrate, thinking that my dad’s experiment had worked. That was, until I saw his yellow galoshes on the ground, the toes pointed up. The rest of my dad lay sprawled on the ground. His hands and arms fanned out from his body like an angel.
I broke my cover. I no longer cared. I sprinted over to him and wrapped my small hands around his face and shook. He didn’t wake up. Frantic, I found the zipper of his raincoat and tore it open, bursting apart the buttons on his shirt, ready to try to perform CPR as I’d seen on TV. But I choked. There on his chest was a web of red scars, and they snaked all the way up to his throat.
I was frightened at once. I wanted for the night to disappear. I remembered skittering back on all fours, heaving, while inside the lightning cage bolts of lightning twisted and writhed, casting a luminous glow across my father’s dead body.
Something hard on the ground brought me back to the present. I’d been touching the leaves idly when, from the damp earth, I felt something cross my palm. I curled my fingers around it and turned my hand over. I sucked in a quick breath. There was a gold lightning-bolt charm threaded through a string of frayed twine. I pinched the ends and held the shiny trinket eye level. It was a gift from my father for my thirteenth birthday, and back then I never took it off, even to shower. The rope had unraveled and become threadbare until I realized that it was just gone. Sometimes it was my naked wrist and the missing charm, more so than my dead father, that woke me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, feeling like I’d lost something.
I used my teeth to tie the twine into a tight knot around my wrist. The lightning bolt bounced softly against the bulb of veins that gathered at the crease before my hand.
Behind me a motor clicked before shifting into a high-pitched whir like the sound of a plane engine taking off. I spun. A white spark spat from the first sphere’s surface, followed by a strand of light that started at the ball and looped in on itself.
“You did it!” I exclaimed, running back to join them. “You did it!” I threw my arms around Owen’s neck, and he toppled over.
“One down…” He stared up, smiling. The first generator was alive.
It took Owen an hour to jump-start the two remaining. Adam and I helped. Beneath the buzz of the generators’ electromagnetic pulse, I replaced the lid on each cylinder and screwed it tightly to the base.
I felt a swell of hope. My dad’s experiments were being resurrected.
Just as the last generator was issuing its first rusty roar and I was screwing the lid over the switches and wires, we heard a string of rapid breaks in the branches.
“Did you hear that?” Adam asked.
Owen swept his flashlight beam over the trees, but we couldn’t see past the border. “Yes.”
More cracks came from the other side. “It’s just the forest,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Probably a deer.”
Every few seconds another branch snapped. Owen rested a hand on my shoulder. It made me jump. “We should go.”
Slowly, I rose to my feet. I felt the cords on my neck grow taut. Owen shouldered his bag. Adam’s hand was on the small of my back. He drew close. I imagined a faceless Hunter watching us, casing us as his next victims in Hollow Pines, and my blood ran cold.