It was barely four in the afternoon when Kegan came to a stop, a quarter mile from the cabin. Gage pulled up beside the bike, rolling down his window to say, “I take it we’re here. Are we walking in?”
“Yes. I’d rather not have him shooting out our tires to keep us from escaping, in case he’s decided to break the truce—if that’s what it is.”
“Makes sense to me. Do you want to split up?”
Kegan thought about it. “No. If he is for real, our doing that will tell him we don’t trust him.”
Gage shrugged. “Not so sure I do, even now, but whatever.” He got out of the car, then checked his gun before returning it to the holster at the center of his back. “Let’s do this.”
They walked side by side up the narrow dirt road toward the cabin. When it came into view, Kegan held up his hand as he scanne
