Caleb didn’t answer, his eyes locked on the gun.

I opened the door and stepped out into the freezing rain.

The cold air hit my face, clearing my head.

I kept low, moving along the line of pines that bordered the south side of the property.

My boots sank into the wet mud, making no sound.

I reached the side door where Wade’s SUV was idling.

Exhaust fumes rose in thick white clouds, smelling of cheap gasoline.

Through the frosted glass of the door, I saw a single light burning in the hallway.

I tried the handle.

It was locked.

I moved around to the back, near the loading dock and the holding cells.

There was a small ventilation window three feet off the ground.

It was rusted, the latch barely holding.

I took my pocketknife, wedged the blade into the gap, and popped the lock.

The metal screeched softly, but the wind covered the sound.

I hauled myself up and slid through the opening, landing on the cold concrete floor of the janitor’s closet.

It smelled of bleach and damp mops.