Page 24 of Obscurity
The camera pulled back to show the scene behind her—dozens of beautiful people dancing and drinking, their high-end festival outfits pristine despite the supposed “wilderness” setting.
But something felt off about their enthusiasm. Their smiles were too bright, their movements too choreographed. They were more like actors who’d been directed to look like they were having the time of their lives.
The video cut to sweeping drone footage of Grayfall that made the abandoned town look mystical rather than decrepit. Strategic camera angles highlighted the dramatic mountain backdrop.
“This is about more than music,” Chloe continued in a voiceover as the footage showed cloud-shrouded mountains. “It’s about disconnecting from the artificial world and reconnecting with something real, something primal . . . something amazing.”
The next sequence showed nighttime footage around a massive bonfire, with silhouettes dancing against the flames. The audio was a mix of acoustic guitar and laughter.
Then Chloe appeared again, this time in daylight. But her demeanor had changed subtly. The brilliant smile was still there, but it looked more forced now, and her eyes held a tension that hadn’t been present in the earlier footage.
“The connection to the land, to the history of this place, to each other—it’s going to be profound.” There was a slight hesitation in her voice, as if she were reading words she no longer entirely believed.
The camera caught a moment when Chloe thought she was off-screen—her bright expression dropping into something more troubled as she glanced toward the mine entrance.
The footage quickly cut away, but not before Olive saw Chloe wrap her arms around herself as if suddenly cold.
The final shot returned to the party atmosphere, with Chloe back in full promotional mode. “Grayfall is going to change everything. This is where transformation happens. This is where you discover who you really are.”
As the video faded to black with the festival logo, Olive couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloe had discovered exactly that—and it had terrified her.
Olive’s stomach clenched at the thought. She prayed the girl was okay. Prayed they’d be able to find her.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” squealed a girl at the next table. “The videos look insane. This is going to be the most incredible weekend ever!”
A group near the windows was already comparing the promotional footage to their expectations. “Did you see that main stage setup? This is going to be so much better than Burning Man.”
The infectious excitement was palpable, making it easy to forget that three people had disappeared in these mountains. The promotional video made everything look magical and safe.
Olive wished she felt confident that was true.
Elias appeared at the front of the room, waiting for a lull in the video’s soundtrack before clapping his hands for attention. “Listen up, everyone! I hope you’re as excited as I am. These videos don’t even do justice to what you’re about to experience.”
The room erupted in cheers and applause.
“The first group headed to the music festival leaves in fifteen minutes,” he continued over the noise. “New groups will leave every hour until three o’clock. Do a final check of your gear, and remember—stay with the group, follow your guide’s instructions, and respect the wilderness that’s graciously hosting us this weekend.”
More cheers filled the room, along with the scraping of chairs against hardwood as guests began gathering their belongings with renewed enthusiasm. Someone started chanting “Grayfall! Grayfall!” and others joined in.
A familiar flutter touched Olive’s stomach. It was a combination of anticipation and anxiety that always preceded stepping into the unknown.
Chloe’s life depended on Olive completing this assignment.
Failure wasn’t an option.
But there was still one more thing she needed to do before departing.
She turned to Jason. “I need to run to the restroom. Meet you outside?”
“Sounds good.” He nodded, already moving toward the door with the other festivalgoers.
Olive waited until the dining room was nearly empty.
Then she made her move.
The lodge’s office was located down a short hallway behind the reception desk, its door marked with a discrete brass nameplate reading “E. Mercer—Manager.” Olive had scouted out this area yesterday when she’d headed toward the bathroom.
She tried the handle, surprised—but grateful—to find it unlocked.
