Chapter 66
the drive into the mountains was a tense, silent blur. the rain turned into a thick, freezing fog as we climbed higher into the remote wilderness, leaving the city and its sirens far behind. the little boy—who finally whispered that his name was leo—fell into a deep, medicated sleep in the back of the van, his head resting on mia's lap. elias navigated the treacherous, unpaved logging roads entirely from memory, driving without headlights to avoid being spotted by aerial drones. hours later, the shape of a massive, heavily fortified cabin emerged from the tree line. elias unlocked the heavy steel door, ushering us into a dark room that smelled of pine and gun oil. "we're off the grid here," he said, flipping a switch that hummed with generator power. but as the lights flickered on, elias froze, his hand dropping to his holster.
