The Rift
Calvin and the six others stood in a lopsided circle at one of the roads, hidden behind a trailer-sized chunk of black rock. They road was cracked asphalt, busted up too much for any vehicles to travel down, but perfect for following into the city.
He looked at each of them briefly, through the downpour.
Angela with brown eyes full of determination.
John with a passive face, his mouth a lazy line, and his blue eyes blazing from beneath his dark hood.
Tom with his hooked nose and a spray of mustach across the upper lip.
Jonas looking old and reserved; a light fluff of white hair wrapping the back of his wrinkled head. In the cloak, he looked like an ancient monk.
Scrawny Ferdinand with his bushy eyebrows looking to the city.
Charlie leaning with his back on the rock, holding a hand behind his head.
And Richie The Clown, looking right at him.
"Is it time?" he asked.
"It's time," said Calvin.
He looked at each of them briefly, through the downpour.
Angela with brown eyes full of determination.
John with a passive face, his mouth a lazy line, and his blue eyes blazing from beneath his dark hood.
Tom with his hooked nose and a spray of mustach across the upper lip.
Jonas looking old and reserved; a light fluff of white hair wrapping the back of his wrinkled head. In the cloak, he looked like an ancient monk.
Scrawny Ferdinand with his bushy eyebrows looking to the city.
Charlie leaning with his back on the rock, holding a hand behind his head.
And Richie The Clown, looking right at him.
"Is it time?" he asked.
"It's time," said Calvin.