Page 84 of Adam's Rising

The rickety building didn’t look like much. No windows. No character. Just a long timber wood building. The only feature that stood out was a larger-than-life black door with a steel pipe contraption rigged up like a makeshift handle.

Adam didn’t wait for the truck to stop fully before jumping out.

A familiar figure stood outside near a sagging fence post — Jeff, in a frayed Army jacket, cigarette dangling from his mouth. He looked up just in time to see Adam charging.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Jeff held up both hands. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Exactly!” Adam snarled, grabbing him by the front of the jacket and slamming him back into the fence. “You didn’t do anything, and now Peter’s missing! You told me you’d help find the guys who… You promised, Jeff. But now Peter’s missing.”

“I’m sorry, Adam. I have tried, I swear. I don’t know who they are, man. I’ve kept my ear to the ground.”

Adam stared him down for a long second, then shoved him aside.

Claire climbed out of the truck, her cast thudding softly on the gravel. “Adam…”

Jeff turned to her. “Claire, thank God you’re okay. Look, I don’t know who they are. I told Adam the same thing. All I know is… somefriendhooked Thomas up. Someone down south was all Thomas ever said.”

South… Adam thought. From Falcon Run, south could be Wasilla, Anchorage, Seward, or the Lower 48. Everywhere was south.

“Wait!” Jeff said. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.” Adam’s fists clenched again. “Someone was in the bar just a bit ago, asking about Thomas.”

“Here?”

Adam stepped closer. “Yeah. Never mind, I’ll go check it out.”

The take-charge Jeff — the one who’d dragged him and Peter out of the house — stepped past him.

“Not happening, kid. You’re tough, I’ll give you that, but they’ll tear you a new one in there.” He slapped him on the back. “Hang on. And put her back in the truck.”

Claire crossed her arms. “No one puts me —”

“Thanks, Jeff.” Adam wrapped an arm around Claire. “You said you’d stay in the truck.”

Fifteen tense minutes passed, then Jeff pushed through the large black door. The long guitar riff fromStairway to Heaven— another of Thomas’s favorites — followed until the door swung closed with a thud.

He took a drag off his cigarette, then jogged to the driver’s side.

Adam rolled down the window.

Jeff leaned on the frame. “According to Big John, some guys came in a few days ago, looking for some crank. He’s been off a couple of days. Just got back tonight and saw the note Rusty left for him.”

“Crank?” Adam asked. “As in crankshaft?”

“No, kiddo. Likemethamphetamine, the stuff your brother was making out in that old dry cabin behind your property. Their next question, after plying Big John with a pretty hefty tip was if he happened to know an old friend of theirs, Thomas Belgarde.”

Adam’s blood ran cold.

Claire gasped.

Adam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re not watching us… they’re hunting… until they find the one who can give them what they want.”

* * *

It was wellafter midnight when Adam pulled back into the ranch. He parked the truck, but neither he nor Claire moved to get out right away.

The barn stood quiet under a gauze of moonlight, and the mountains looming in the distance like silent witnesses.

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