Storm (Swipe Series)

seems . . . well, it seems like I’m needed somewhere else .”
    “Like a pilgrimage?” Logan asked. “You’re talking about a pilgrimage?”
    Peck shrugged.
    “A pilgrimage to where?”
    Peck was quiet for a moment, staring, unfocused, at the table in front of them. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “Europe? The Dark Lands? There’s still too much about this world that I don’t understand. I grasp at it, I try . . . and yet . . .”
    Logan nodded, trying to follow along. But Hailey just laughed.
    “Look at this guy. One little cameo in some Markless paperback book, and he thinks the world’s calling him, all of a sudden.”
    Peck smiled distantly.
    “So you’re abandoning us?” Logan asked. “Is that what I’m hearing?”
    “That’s not what this is,” Peck said, getting out in front of whatever it was Logan was about to suggest. “This, now . . . it’s about a broader struggle.” He sighed. “You and I are fighters. But these battles we’re waging—I just can’t help but feel as though . . . I don’t know. As though it’s all still small-time stuff.” He looked around at the bustle of the Sierra Science Center and sighed.
    “Five and a half years ago—six, almost—your sister disappeared. And I can’t explain it, but I knew then, at that moment, that I needed to follow a different path. So I dropped out. I went Markless. I found Jesus. Became a Christian. And I spent months— years —by myself, just reading. Just listening. Just learning what I could.
    “And it’s because of that,” Peck said, “that the Dust exists today. It’s because of that research that we knew Lily was alive. It’s because of that introspection that we’re here right now.
    “Five years ago, I looked out at Spokie, and I realized there was something to it I was missing. Some truth I could feel but couldn’t see.
    “And I found that now. And it’s brought us here. As though we’ve finally reached . . . I don’t know . . . the mountaintop.”
    “The mountaintop,” Hailey repeated.
    “Yeah. The mountaintop. And so now here I am, looking out at the view. And I’m seeing so much more than I used to, down below. But I’m seeing above the clouds now too, for the first time. And suddenly I realize there are peaks that I didn’t even know were there before.
    “And now that I do , it’s time to start the climb all over again.” He laughed. “Does that make any sense?”
    “Not much,” Hailey said.
    Peck sighed. “I’ve been seeing signs,” he said finally. “In my research at the library. Every electronic book I read, every page I browse on the Internet . . . it’s like Someone, or some thing , is dropping hints. Telling me to keep my head up. Pointing me in some new direction . . .
    “I can’t explain it better than that,” Peck said. “But somehow, I need to follow it.”
    “Are you talking about visions ?” Logan asked. “Like, prophetic visions ?”
    “Sort of,” Peck said. “Yeah. Ever since I started exploring Sierra.”
    Hailey gave Peck a look, some mix between intrigue and pity. “Well,” she said. “Do what you gotta do then . . .”
    “Try to understand,” Peck said. “If these really are end times . . . then none of us are prepared. We need you guys to keep fighting the battles today. But all I’m saying is, it may be time to brace ourselves for what’s coming around the corner too.”
    Logan nodded. Peck hugged him and Hailey both. He said, “Have faith.” But neither of them found any comfort in it.
    And that night Peck went off in search of something even he couldn’t yet comprehend.
    6
    The basement of the SSC was dark, and the harsh formaldehyde smell rising from the storage shelves struck Logan more now than it had in the past. Perhaps he was eager for distractions. Perhaps he was simply on high alert.
    “Logan!” Erin called when she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. “Are you okay? Did the IMPS find you?”
    “There was only one, but yeah. She found me,” Logan said. “It wasn’t a raid, though. It was a message. I’m fine.” He rounded the corner of the last storage shelf, and he frowned when he saw Erin there. Whatever cocktail of medicine she was on, its effects were starting to wear off. And without any real Trumpet cure in sight, Erin was looking worse these days than ever.
    “They’re probably monitoring the entrance of this place. You shouldn’t be here. You can’t stay.”
    “It wasn’t official IMP business,”