The sun is setting.

Adwin and Beverly are sleeping off the previous encounter. Flo wishes she could distract herself by dotting over them, but she fears the cough that climbs the back of her throat. Instead, the others hide in the cabin, seemingly like any other night. Only Mickey and Clara aren't talking. Only Maverick and Alvaro are suddenly very friendly when they had previously been nothing but icy to each other. Only Tim and Ivy are dead.

Finally, Hubert makes it to the cabin. He's out of breath since he ran half the way there. He collapses in the doorway, jolting the cabin awake.

"What the fuck are you..." Alvaro cuts himself off as he puts away the dishes from the evening. "Did you run here?"

Hubert's sweat no longer beads on his forehead. It drenches his whole body, staining his sky-blue shirt a deep navy. He brings himself up.

"We have little time," Hubert pants. He looks at them all, his eyes settling on Clara. "We have to run."

"All of us, or just her?" Mickey's voice slices open Clara's cheek, and she turns away, feeling the sting. Blood drips down her face, brushing her cheeks bright red.

Hubert rolls his eyes. "Everyone but you."

"You even know my name?" Mickey asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Before Hubert has the time to reply (he in fact, does not), Maverick jumps in. "What do you mean, there is no time to explain. What's going on?"

"Come with me if you want to live," Hubert shrugs his shoulders.

He waits expectantly for Clara, who won't look him in the eye. She huddles over the bed.

Flo, who has no intention of dying, heads over and nudges Adwin and Beverly awake. The two are groggy, but she surmises that this state will have to do. Then, she walks to the doorway, and waits for the others to follow her.

They do. One after the other, they head out of the room.

Mickey stays at the back of the pack, refusing to head out.

Clara hangs behind, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. "Can you give us a minute, Mr. Tremblay?"

"We don't have time for minutes," he sighs. He walks in and grabs her by the wrist, delicately pulling her with him.

Clara slams herself out of his grip. She stops, firm on her feet. "Excuse me? You will not lay your hands on me."

"I was not laying my hands on you," Hubert counters.

"And you will not interrupt me either!" she shouts, shoving him backwards.

Hubert doesn't even budge. His shoulders are firm, his jaw tight. "Clara, half the town is coming to set this house on fire and if we do not get going now, you and your friend will die before you can discuss. You will listen to what I ask of you."

Clara storms out, elbowing him to get past him. She heads over to the group, crowded outside.

Adwin goes to comfort her, but she brushes him off.

Hubert eyes up Mickey, who stands with his hands planted on his hips.

"Do you always let women fight your battles?" Hubert asks.

"Only Clara," Mickey counters. "And if you knew her well enough, you would let her too."

Hubert rolls his eyes and storms out as well.

Mickey isn't finished, so he follows along.

Amongst the crowd, Hubert is surprised to find that none of them are whispering of the blaze to come. He is relieved Clara said nothing, because it makes his job easier. Instead, he leads the group into the far side of the forest.

Together, they march through, as it turns to the middle of the night. They hear far off shouting, the jovial cheers of men with torches (not that they know about the torches).

As they walk, Mickey spreads the rumour amongst them like a fire. First to Alvaro and Maverick, and then to Adwin. Finally, when he is sure that they all have decided to keep calm, he speaks to the more emotional Beverly and Flo.

"How does he know?" Maverick asks.

"He must be in on it," Alvaro decides. "Maybe it was an agreement in the church?"

"I do not imagine a pastor would condone such behaviour!" Beverly almost laughs.

Adwin shushes her, a worried grimace on his face. "We could still run into them."

"How do we know Hubert isn't leading us to another exorcism?" Mickey wonders loudly.

Hubert can hear them. He doesn't engage, mostly because he knows its what Mickey wants. More than anything, he wishes to wipe the smug grin that he can feel from Mickey, a devil on his shoulder, pulling his ear and begging for a fight.

Beverly struggles to walk, and eventually Alvaro and Mickey end up carrying her most of the way, much to her complaints. After all, her stumblings are creating the noise of a creature much too large and frightening to be this close to town, and could draw unwanted attention.

Eventually, Hubert winds up finding his way to Clara. He strokes a loose strand of hair out of her face. All of her rage boils inside her along where he touches. She snaps her head away. Even though she wants to melt in his hands like candlewax, she knows that loving him will consume all that she is (and she is right, I would know).

When they get into downtown, they all crawl across the ground in the dark. Beverly barely manages to pull herself along, with the use of one arm and a bit of a leg. Flo helps drag her on the ground. Even if she's no good at it. Beverly squeezes her hand tightly, tears in her eyes. Every movement is agonizing, because she realizes that if she fell overboard, she wouldn't be bale to swim.

Thankfully, they make it into Hubert's house. He draws the blinds and all of them hole up in the living room. He offers the women his bed, mostly Beverly, who resists. There is no point in hiding her condition any longer, and nothing is painful, so she has no qualms about sleeping on the floor.

"I'm not going to bed without answers," Maverick argues.

"Hush your voice, the walls are thin," Flo chastises, pulling her legs up to her chest. Anyone could be listening. And there is someone here who is listening. She is sure of it. As sure that she is that soon the plague will consume her and that she will die.

"No one knows I've brought you here," Hubert says. He digs deep into his pocket and pulls out a circular watch. "Your house should be burning down as we speak."

"Why?" Mickey asks rubbing his forehead. "You're whole secretive shtick is getting old."

Adwin stands up. He grabs Hubert around the wrist and drags him into the bedroom.

This space is messier than the living room. Empty bottles cover the place, as well as all of Hubert's clothing. It seems that this is where he shoved all his messy belongs, including a dirty cast iron pan.

Adwin tries not to be disgusted. He sucks in a breath and whispers to Hubert. "I know you're secret. And if you don't tell them, I will."

Hubert stiffens. "It's not that secret. Clara knows I have travelled through time."

Adwin shakes his head. He takes one more second, giving Hubert the opportunity to answer. When he doesn't reveal anything else, Adwin heads back into the living room.

"You two lovebirds have fun?" Alvaro tries to diffuse the tension. He elbows Mickey, who does not reciprocate.

Adwin waits for Hubert to answer.

Finally Hubert speaks. "This is not my first time here."

The others are quiet.

"You mean to say that you are a traveller too?" Maverick demands, looking around exasperated. He rolls up his sleeves, because suddenly he feels very hot. Instead of retorting, he looks to Adwin. "And you knew?"

"I didn't think it was important," Adwin says. He nudges Hubert and when Hubert doesn't speak, he sighs. "Tell us Hubert, this is not your second time is it? Nor your third, I imagine. I don't care which time it is, just let us know if it was us who died repeatedly or other strangers?"

Hubert stiffens.

Clara leans backwards, letting her hand which props her up fall on Mickey's. She doesn't move away but he does. He feels confined. It's as if the walls are closing in on him. Mickey wants nothing more than space, but he is not free to have it. They are trapped, in this tiny area with a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms and what basically amounts to an outhouse.

So, he leaves and shuts himself in one of the bedrooms. Inside, he buries his hands in his hair and tries his best to breathe. He hears gunfire in his ears, blasting. It takes everything in him not to scream.

"Do tell us Hubert," Alvaro crosses one leg over the other, staring up at him, a scowl across his cheeks.

"I'm less concerned with who they were, and more curious as to what happened to them," Maverick says.

Hubert bites his lip. He leans backwards and walks into the kitchen. There, he takes the last of his liquor and begins to chug it.

Adwin moves in. He wants to wrestle it out of Hubert's grip but doesn't. He can't bare to touch him. Instead, he watches as Hubert puts down the bottle halfway through.

Hubert exhales, catching his breath. His throat feels like fire. At least now he is beginning to get the courage to speak. Finally, he enters the next room and croaks. "It is never the same nine who arrive."

Beverly's eyes dim. She is going to die, and she wasn't anything special after all.

"I always am transported back when I am the last living person in Alaque," Hubert explains, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "When everyone else has died from the Grip and the rot. When it is just me, and I am being chased by a spectre. None of the strangers have ever made it through the night with the fire."

"How did they die?" Maverick asks.

"Mostly the rot and possessions," Hubert says. "Often the townspeople have a hand in it. A few times, nobody even made it to the beach on the very first day. The worst of times is when they kill each other, like your Tim did."

(He doesn't mention that the true worst of times that he has experienced is when he had to kill them, to protect himself and others).

"You talk about us like we are a game," Flo grimaces, tears in her eyes. She has accepted she will die, but the others. No, they are too good for death.

"I do not mean to say such a thing," Hubert says. "I've actually come to like you all. I know your names."

"You didn't know Flo's name when she was kidnapped," Alvaro points out.

Hubert points around the room. "Alvaro. Adwin. Maverick. Clara."

He pauses on Beverly and before a name can pop in her head, she already speaks hers out.

"I understand," she says, even though she couldn't possibly. She just wants to try. It can't be easy being him.

"Thank you," Hubert offers. "Bev."

The others seem to relax. The news makes the contents of their stomach curdle.

Maverick finally coughs, speaking up. "What now?"

~~~~~

I'm getting sad with how close we are now. It's burning my soul. There are still more reveals to come, and still such little time. Oh well. It shall all (probably) be satisifying.