Caleb looked up at me, his eyes hollow.

“Adrian, please,” he said.

“I didn’t want this.”

“You chose your side, Caleb,” I said.

“You chose it seventeen years ago when you started lying to me.”

Marcus found a roll of heavy utility wire on the workbench.

He began securing Caleb to the thick wooden pillar.

I checked the magazine of the rifle.

It was full.

I slung the strap over my shoulder.

“Daniel, give me your flashlight,” I said.

He handed me a small, heavy tactical light.

“Be careful, Adrian,” Daniel said.

“They have thermal gear.”

“If they see your heat signature through the wood panels, they will shoot.”

“I will stay low,” I said.

I walked to the back wall of the carriage house.

Behind a stack of old winter tires was a small wooden door.

It was painted the same dark green as the siding.

I unlocked it with the key I always kept in my pocket.

The hinges groaned slightly.

I stepped out into the pouring rain.

The cold water hit my face, washing away the sweat and coal dust.