The night had moved slowly. By the time the winter sun slowly rose over Mount Rushmore, Riley hadn't closed her eyes for a second. She'd read her dad's notebook over and over again, every single word she'd read at least ten times. She'd stared at the polaroid of him and her mother for close to an hour, begging her mind to remember anything that could help. It had come up empty.
Abby hadn't come back to SF house either. That was fine with Riley. She'd just interrupt, tell her to go to bed, tell her to stop obsessing, as if that was an option.
She'd reconstructed the timeline of the USGS experiments - for the months the logbook went back, they were digging. Trying to get to something deep in the mountain, but the notes never specified what. Her dad, Dr. Allen Truman, and his head of excavation and sedimentary analysis, Dr. David Vassos. They were digging into Mount Rushmore, and - on July 2nd, 1998, found what they were looking for.
The storm had finally blown itself out by morning, leaving the forest dripping and the air heavy with the scent of wet pine. Riley sat cross-legged on her bed in SF house, her father's notebook open in her lap, the edges of the pages worn from her restless fingers. The polaroid of her parents lay beside her, its corners curling slightly from the damp air seeping through the treehouse walls. She'd traced every line of her mother's handwriting on the back - Sarah and me, June 28 '98. Last trimester!
Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, and her head throbbed with a dull ache that matched the rhythm of the dripping water outside. She barely noticed the soft creak of door when Abby poked her head inside.
"Morning," Abby said, her voice cautious but warm. She went inside, brushing wet snow off her costume. Her glasses were fogged from the cold, and she wiped them on her sleeve. "You look like hell."
"Thanks," Riley muttered, not looking up from the notebook. "Feel like it too."
Abby hesitated, then crossed the room to sit on the edge of Riley's bed. "Did you sleep at all?"
Riley shook her head. "Couldn't. Kept reading. Trying to figure out…" She gestured vaguely at the notebook. "Something. Anything."
Abby's eyes softened. "You need a break, Ri. We all do after yesterday." She took off her jacket and stuffed it in her now empty duffel bag.
"Yeah, well, breaks don't exactly solve mysteries buried in mountains." Riley's tone was sharper than she intended, and she winced. "Sorry. I'm just… tired."
"I feel ya." She said and ran her hand through her hair. She was sticky, needed a shower. "Do you wanna go to Keystone with me later? Supplies, laundry?"
"Laundry?"
"There's a laundromat Sadie told me about. Next to the store she always goes to."
Abby tilted her head, studying Riley's exhausted face. "Come on, Ri. Fresh air might do you some good. And I'm not lugging all those supplies back here by myself."
Riley rubbed her eyes, the weight of the notebook pressing into her lap. She wanted to say no, to stay buried in her father's words until they made sense - but the idea of getting out of the treehouse, away from the oppressive shadow of the mountain, was tempting. Even if just for a few hours. "Fine," she muttered, closing the notebook with a soft thud. "But I'm not carrying anything heavy."
"Deal." Abby grinned, hopping off the bed. "Meet me at the clearing in ten. I'll grab the shopping list from Sadie."
Riley nodded, watching Abby slip out the door. She tucked the notebook and polaroid into her backpack - she wasn't letting them out of her sight - then pulled on her boots and a jacket. Her body ached from sitting still all night, and her mind felt like it was swimming through fog, but she forced herself to move.
Ten minutes later, she found Abby in the clearing below the treehouses, a folded piece of paper in her hand and a determined look on her face. The snow had stopped, leaving the ground a muddy mess, but the sky was clear, the morning sun casting long shadows through the pines.
"Ready?" Abby asked, adjusting her glasses.
Riley shrugged. "As I'll ever be."
Abby took her hand, and the familiar pull of teleportation tugged at Riley's stomach. The world blurred - trees and snow and rock stretching into streaks of colour - then snapped back into focus. They were standing on the edge of Keystone, the small town nestled in the valley below Mount Rushmore. The air smelled of pine and wet earth, with a faint hint of gasoline from the highway nearby.
Riley stumbled slightly, still not used to Abby's teleporting, and steadied herself against a lamppost. "Whoa. That was... rough."
"Sorry," Abby said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. "Come on, laundromat's this way."
As they walked into town, Riley noticed something different. Keystone, usually a sleepy little place with a handful of tourist shops and diners, was buzzing with activity. People were stringing up lights along the main street, setting up wooden booths, and hauling crates of food and decorations. A banner stretched across the road ahead, flapping in the breeze: Keystone Annual Fair - December 16th.
"Hey, that's tonight." Abby said. "Oh, we have to go."
"We're here for supplies, Abby. Not carnival games."
They entered the Keystone laundromat and stop-n-shop, and Abby fished a few quarters out of her pocket. "I'm saying we could all use a little break."
"So do I, but... I think Sadie doesn't want to hear that right now."
"What, because you pissed her off with your little prepper notebook?"
"And the knowledge that there's something living in the mountain, something that made my dad and four dozen scientists run away in panic."
Abby shoved a handful of quarters into the washing machine, the clinking sound briefly drowning out the hum of the laundromat. She glanced over at Riley, who was leaning against a folding table, arms crossed, staring blankly at a faded poster advertising a long-expired coupon for the diner across the street. The air smelled faintly of detergent and mildew, a stark contrast to the crisp pine scent outside.
"You're not wrong," Abby said, breaking the silence as she dumped a pile of clothes - mostly Sadie's flannels and Marigold's perpetually pollen-dusted jackets - into the machine. "About Sadie, I mean. She's freaked out. We all are. But a fair? Come on, Ri. Cotton candy, rigged ring toss, maybe a Ferris wheel if this town's got the budget. Could be fun."
Riley didn't respond right away. She rubbed her thumb along the edge of her backpack strap, where her father's notebook was tucked safely inside. "Fun doesn't change what's under that mountain," she muttered finally. "Or what it did to my dad. To my mom."
Abby paused, her hand hovering over the detergent bottle. "I know," she said softly. "But it might help us think straight. Give us a second to breathe before we figure out what's next."
Riley's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue. She couldn't - not when Abby was looking at her like that, all earnest hazel eyes and stubborn optimism. Instead, she pushed off the table and grabbed the shopping list from Abby's pocket. "Fine. Let's just get this over with. What's Sadie want?"
Abby grinned, victorious, and started the wash cycle before snatching the list back. "Basics - flour, sugar, coffee. Oh, and 'something fun'. Guess she's not totally against the idea of loosening up."
They stepped out of the laundromat into the growing bustle of Keystone. The fair preparations were in full swing now - vendors shouting to each other as they set up stalls, kids darting between legs with sticky hands, and the faint sound of a calliope warming up somewhere down the street. The normalcy of it all felt surreal after the past twenty-four hours, like stepping into a different world.
Murphy's general store, its shelves stocked with canned goods, tourist trinkets, and a questionable array of off-brand snacks, was busier than usual.. Riley grabbed a basket and started tossing in items from the list. Abby trailed behind, pausing to inspect a jar of neon-green pickles with a raised eyebrow.
"Think Marigold would eat these?" she asked, holding it up.
"Mari? Forget it. JP on the other hand..." Riley deadpanned, and Abby snorted, setting the jar back down.
They were halfway through the list when Riley froze, her hand hovering over a bag of coffee. Across the aisle, near the register, two men in dark jackets stood talking to the cashier. Their voices were low, but Riley caught fragments - "Rushmore," "survey team," "unusual readings." One of them had a USGS patch on his sleeve.
"Abby," Riley hissed, nudging her. "Look."
Abby followed her gaze, her playful demeanour vanishing. "Shit. Are they-"
"USGS. Yeah." Riley's grip tightened on the basket. "They're not here for the fair."
The men didn't seem to notice them, too engrossed in their conversation. Mrs. Murphy behind the register didn't seem to care or mind. Riley edged closer, pretending to examine a display of postcards, straining to hear more.
"…picked up seismic spikes again last night," one of the men was saying. "Same pattern as '98, but stronger. Vassos wants us back up there by noon."
"Vassos?" the other replied, scratching his beard. "Thought he swore off this place after the last time."
"With DC breathing down his neck, I guess he changed his mind. He's got a little mobile lab trailer by the visitor centre."
"Anyone else here? McClure, Osborn, Truman?"
"Just him for now. Truman wanted to come down in a few days, though." One of them took a candy bar out of the tray next to the cash register and tossed it with the other groceries. "God, I hope they don't find anything. He didn't shut up for months after '98."
"He staying at the Northern?" The other scientist asked and paid for their supplies.
"He's supposed to. But he's just been holed up in his field lab." Mrs. Murphy packed all their things into a plastic bag, and the scientists turned to leave. "I'm telling you, I don't like this one bit. There's a reason he's not returning to the mountain compound."
They continued their conversation outside. Riley and Abby didn't follow. "Told you something was up."
"All the more reason to go to the fair, if you ask me." Abby grinned and brought their supplies to the cash register. "Get the low-down on what goes on at the USGS."
"At the fair."
"I mean, they'll be there, won't they?"
"Supplies and laundry, as requested," Abby announced, dropping the duffel by the door with a theatrical thud. She set the grocery bags on the table, nudging Sadie's mug aside. "Flour, sugar, coffee - and I threw in some hot cocoa mix because, you know, 'something fun.'"
Sadie arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Thanks." Her voice was flat, still carrying the edge from yesterday's argument. She took a sip of coffee, her fingers tightening around the mug nervously.
Riley stayed by the door, arms crossed, her backpack still slung over one shoulder. She didn't trust herself to sit - not when her mind was racing with what they'd overheard in Keystone. But Abby, oblivious or deliberately ignoring the tension, plowed ahead.
"So," Abby said, leaning against the table with a grin, "Keystone's throwing their annual fair tonight. Lights, food stalls, the works. We should go."
Sadie's mug paused halfway to her mouth. "No."
"Come on, Sadie," Abby pressed, undeterred. "We've been cooped up here, freaking out over tunnels and creepy spheres. A night out could be good for us. Clear our heads."
"Clear our heads?" Sadie set the mug down hard enough that coffee sloshed over the rim. "Abby, we just found a secret government lab under the mountain. The presidents' faces moved. And you want to go eat cotton candy?"
"There a ferris wheel?" Marigold sniffled and went through the pile of clothes, picking out the articles that belonged to her. "Love a ferris wheel."
"Probably!" Abby said, seizing the opening. "And even if there's not, there's fried dough, and carnival games, and-"
"If you wanna be high up, ask Autumn," Sadie shut her down. "We can't risk it. Town's probably crawling with geologists."
Riley shifted her weight, the words bubbling up before she could stop them. "They're already here, Sadie. We saw them in town. Two USGS guys talking about seismic spikes - same pattern as '98. Vassos is back, and they're setting up a mobile lab by the visitor centre."
The room went still. JP's book snapped shut. Marigold's tissue froze halfway to her nose. Sadie's eyes narrowed, locking onto Riley. "What did you say?"
Riley met her gaze, unflinching. "They're not here for soil samples. They're picking up readings again - stronger than before. One of them mentioned my dad, too. Said he's coming down in a few days."
"Your dad?" Sadie's voice softened, just for a second, before hardening again. "And you didn't think to lead with that?"
"I'm telling you now," Riley shot back. "Point is, they're already suspicious. Hiding here won't stop them from finding whatever's in that mountain. But Abby's right - if they're at the fair, we might overhear something useful. Get ahead of them for once."
Sadie leaned back, crossing her arms. "Or they spot us, connect the dots, and we're done. You think they won't notice a bunch of kids with powers wandering around?"
"We don't have to use our powers." Riley mumbled, slowly warming to the idea. "We can be undercover."
"Look." Sadie said. "I know you want to go. I mean, everyone probably wants to go. I get it. But we... can't leave the camp unattended. What if the agents-"
"Geologists." JP corrected.
"-fine, the geologists show up here?"
"Then I'll stay behind." JP said and closed his book. "It'll be a vacation for me too, not constantly hearing all of your thoughts."
"See?" Abby grinned. "Please?"
Sadie rubbed her temples. "Don't make me regret this, okay?"