The Heat Beneath Oakhaven Engine
The heat started in March, when the azaleas bloomed early and died in a single night, their petals turning black as if scorched by something that lived inside the earth rather than above it. Jesse Beauregard felt it first in his hands. He was repairing the maintenance hatch on a Tuesday, his wrench slipping on a bolt that had grown too hot to touch. He pulled his glove off and pressed his bare...
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