Another group arrives and each change in their own way.
The Mercedes’ engine ticked in a steady rhythm as Morgan sat in the fading heat of the front seat. She double-checked the red-stained fake bandage on her upper arm and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
A black BMW X5 was parked next to her, hidden in shadows cast by the brilliant crescent moon above them. The moon was larger than she’d ever seen it and almost painful to look at. The silvery light pulsed from its surface.
“We’re too early,” the girl said, pulling at her blonde braid. …