“Where are we going?” I asked, rubbing my cold arms.

“A safe house,” Liam said.

“An old colleague of mine owns a cabin near the river.”

“It’s empty this time of year.”

He turned the truck onto the highway, driving steady and matching the speed limit.

“We need to stay off the main roads,” he added.

“And you need to turn off your phone.”

I pulled the phone from my pocket and switched it off, the screen going black.

We drove in silence for forty minutes.

The city lights faded, replaced by the dark, dense trees of the river valley.

Rain lashed against the windshield, the wipers scraping rhythmically against the glass.

Finally, Liam turned onto a gravel road.

The truck bumped over deep potholes.

The headlights illuminated a small, wooden cabin nestled in the pines.

It looked dark and abandoned.

Liam parked behind a thick cluster of hemlock trees, completely hiding the truck from the road.

“Let’s go,” he said, cutting the engine.

We ran through the rain to the small porch.

Liam unlocked the heavy padlock on the front door and pushed it open.