The canyon's night was a living thing,whispering through the pines, brushing the backs of Jake's hands with cool, invisible fingers as he crept toward the inn. The settlement lay quiet, most of its inhabitants lost to the deep, forgetful slumber that came with hard work and harder drink. Only the occasional hoot of an owl or the distant rustle of some night creature broke the silence.
Jake's breath formed small clouds in the chilled air as he paused at the edge of the inn's porch, listening. His heart hammered in his chest, not just from the cold, but from the risk of what he was about to do. He hadn't told Miya about his plan,he didn't want to worry her, and besides, he was supposed to be the one who took the risks. That's what settlers did for each other, wasn't it?
He eased open the inn's side door, wincing at the soft groan of the hinges. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of woodsmoke and old ale, the embers in the fireplace casting a dull, red glow over the room. Luke, the innkeeper, was slumped in a chair by the hearth, his mouth open, his snores rattling the air. Jake stepped carefully, avoiding the creakiest floorboards, his eyes scanning the shadows for movement.
All I need is a quick look at that notebook. Just to see…
Jake's thoughts trailed off as he approached the back room. The door was locked, but he'd learned a thing or two about locks since coming to the canyon. He pulled a thin piece of wire from his pocket... salvaged from an old fence post... and worked it into the keyhole. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from anticipation. After a few tense moments, the lock clicked open.
Inside, the room was small and spare. The traveler lay on a narrow cot, his face peaceful in the dim light filtering through the curtained window. His chest rose and fell steadily, his breath slow and even. Jake felt a pang of guilt, the man was just a stranger, lost like so many others. But the settlers' suspicion was contagious, and Jake needed answers.
He searched the room quickly, his fingers brushing over rough wooden shelves, dusty floorboards, the traveler's worn backpack. But the strange equipment and notebook were gone.
Luke must've moved them. Or maybe someone else…
He was about to leave when a noise in the hallway made him freeze. A soft footstep, the creak of a floorboard - someone else was awake.
The door swung open, and Jeremiah stepped inside. His eyes widened when he saw Jake, his expression shifting from surprise to suspicion in an instant.
"What are you doing here?" Jeremiah whispered, his voice sharp and low.
Jake's mind raced. He could lie, but what was the point? Jeremiah had caught him red-handed.
"Looking for the notebook," Jake admitted, keeping his voice just as quiet. "What about you?"
Jeremiah's lips curled into a smirk. "Same."
They stood in silence, each sizing up the other in the dim light. The air between them was thick with tension, the kind that made Jake's skin prickle.
"You don't trust me," Jeremiah said, not a question but a statement.
Jake shook his head. "Not enough to let you take whatever's in that notebook."
Jeremiah sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "We don't have to fight over it. Maybe we can work together."
Jake hesitated. There was something in Jeremiah's voice, a hint of desperation, maybe, or just exhaustion. But he couldn't shake the feeling that Jeremiah was hiding something.
"I don't trust you," Jake repeated. "You've been sneaking around since you got here. Meeting with Lila. Watching the settlers. Why?"
Jeremiah's eyes flickered, but he didn't answer. Instead, he lunged for the backpack on the floor. Jake reacted instinctively, grabbing Jeremiah's arm and twisting him around. They crashed into the wall, the sound loud in the quiet inn.
The traveler stirred but didn't wake. Jake and Jeremiah grappled in the dark, their breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Jeremiah was strong, but Jake was quicker. He managed to get Jeremiah in a headlock and dragged him out of the room, careful not to wake Luke.
Outside, the night was cold and still. The stars were hidden behind a thin veil of clouds, the moon a pale sliver in the sky. Jake and Jeremiah faced each other in the yard, their breath misting in the air.
"You don't know what you're messing with," Jeremiah hissed, rubbing his arm where Jake had twisted it.
"Neither do you," Jake shot back. "That traveler's just a lost soul, like the rest of us."
Jeremiah's eyes narrowed. "You really believe that? After everything that's happened here?"
Jake hesitated. He wanted to believe it, but the canyon had a way of twisting the truth. "I don't know what to believe anymore. But I'm not letting you take that notebook."
Jeremiah lunged again, his fist swinging toward Jake's face. Jake dodged, feeling the rush of air as the punch sailed past his cheek. He countered with a blow to Jeremiah's ribs, making the other man grunt and stumble back.
They circled each other, their eyes locked, their bodies tense. Jeremiah feinted left, then swung right. Jake blocked the punch and landed a solid hit to Jeremiah's jaw. Jeremiah staggered, his face swelling, but he stayed on his feet.
Jake pressed his advantage, driving Jeremiah to the ground. He pinned him down, his fist raised, ready to deliver another blow. But before he could strike, Jeremiah's hand shot up and grabbed something from Jake's ear—a quick, sharp motion that Jake barely felt.
A strange numbness spread through Jake's body. His vision blurred, his limbs grew heavy. He tried to speak, but no words came out. The world spun, and then everything went black.
When Jake woke, he was lying on a soft bed in a dimly lit room. The air smelled of perfume and old wood, the scent thick and cloying. He blinked, his head throbbing, and tried to sit up, but his body felt weak and disoriented.
He looked around, his vision swimming. The room was small, the walls covered in faded tapestries that might have once been colorful but were now dull with age. A single oil lamp cast long, flickering shadows across the floor. He realized he was in the brothel.
Sitting beside the bed were Jeremiah and Lila. Jeremiah's face was swollen from the fight, his lip split, but he was smiling. Lila watched Jake with sharp, calculating eyes.
"Hi, Jake," Jeremiah said, his voice calm and mocking. "Do you remember me?"
Jake tried to speak, but his tongue felt thick and clumsy. His mind was foggy, his thoughts slipping away like sand. He looked at Jeremiah, at Lila, but their faces were blurred, their voices distant.
"What… what did you do to me?" Jake managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.
Jeremiah leaned closer, his smile widening. "Just a little something to help you relax. You were getting too close to the truth."
Jake's heart pounded in his chest, but his body refused to obey him. He tried to lift his arm, but it felt like lead. "Why…?"
Lila spoke for the first time, her voice smooth and cold. "You're a curious one, Jake. Always asking questions, always poking around where you don't belong. That's dangerous in a place like this."
Jake's mind raced, but his thoughts were sluggish, muddled. He tried to remember how he'd gotten here, what had happened, but the memories slipped away as soon as he grasped for them.
"The notebook… the traveler…" Jake murmured, his voice trailing off.
Jeremiah nodded. "You were right to be suspicious. But you were looking in the wrong places. The truth isn't in that notebook, Jake. It's all around you. In the settlers, in the canyon, in the loop."
Jake felt himself slipping, falling back into the darkness. He tried to fight it, but the pull was too strong.
"Welcome back, Jake," Jeremiah said softly, his voice fading as the world went black.
Jake's dreams were strange and fragmented. He saw the canyon from above, a twisting maze of rock and shadow. He saw the settlers moving in circles, their faces blank, their eyes empty. He saw Jeremiah and Lila standing at the center of it all, watching, waiting.
He dreamed of a city, tall and bright, but the memory was fleeting, like a candle flickering out in the wind. He tried to hold onto it, to remember his name, his past, but it was gone, swallowed by the canyon and the loop.
When he woke again, the room was still dim, but the air felt different, lighter, somehow. He blinked, his head still aching, but his thoughts were clearer.
Jeremiah and Lila were gone. He was alone in the room, the only sound the faint creaking of the brothel as it settled in the morning light.
Jake sat up slowly, his body protesting every movement. He touched his ear, where Jeremiah had grabbed him, but there was no mark, no pain. Just a lingering numbness, a sense that something had been taken from him.
He staggered to his feet, his legs shaky, and made his way to the door. The hallway outside was empty, the brothel quiet. He stepped outside, squinting in the bright morning light.
The settlement was waking up, the sounds of voices and work drifting through the air. Jake felt a strange sense of detachment, as if he were watching the world from a distance.
He thought about Jeremiah's words, about the loop, about the truth that was all around him. He didn't understand it, not yet. But he knew one thing for sure, he was deeper in the canyon's grip than ever before.
And the only way out was to keep moving forward, to keep searching for answers, no matter how dangerous it might be.
Jake walked slowly through the settlement, his mind still foggy, his body aching. He passed the inn, where Luke was already up and about, serving breakfast to the early risers. He saw Miya in the distance, talking to a group of settlers, her face serious.
He wanted to go to her, to tell her what had happened, but he couldn't find the words. How could he explain something he didn't understand himself?
Instead, he kept walking, his feet carrying him toward the edge of the canyon, where the trees grew thick and the path disappeared into the woods.
He sat on a fallen log, staring at the sky, his mind empty for the first time in a long while. The past wasn't important here, Boyd had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe the only thing that mattered was the present, the loop, the endless cycle of the canyon.
But deep down, Jake knew that wasn't true. The past was important, it was the key to understanding, to breaking the loop. And he would find it, no matter what it took.
He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face, and listened to the sound of the wind in the trees. The canyon was quiet, but it was watching. And so was he.