After several minutes of slow going on the dark gravel road to the north, Court pulled the vehicle off the road, just before they got to the Civil War–era stone wall. He forced it deep into the brush, finally parking it some forty feet from the footpath that lead to the creek.

It wasn’t invisible here from the footpath, but it was nearly so, and it would be invisible from the air.

Court climbed out of the Silverado, hefted Zack’s heavy pack, and then walked around to the back.

He cut Zack’s gag and leg bindings free, but he kept the big knot of jute rope on his wrists, secure behind his back. Zack struggled to climb down from the back of the truck bed. When he finally did so Court pushed the barrel of the HK into Zack’s forehead for a moment, then told him to turn around and start walking up the dark road.

“I can’t see where I’m going, genius,” Zack complained.

Neither could Court, so he flipped on a flashlight to direct himself forward, covering all but a thin shaft of light with his hand. He then said, “Go straight ahead till I tell you to turn.”

Zack headed off up the path, and Court followed him twenty feet back.

After less than a minute Zack said, “Six, are we in the forest? I smell trees and shit. Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Just walk.”

Zack stopped. “You could do us both a favor and shoot me here, if that is your intention.”

“Yep. I drove an hour just to smoke you in the woods. Walk!”

Hightower mumbled to himself, but he started walking again.

They came to the washed-out bridge and Court took Zack by the arm and helped him along the edge of the creek. Another five minutes found them on the stone path steps on the hill that ran away from the creek. The darkness was impenetrable here beyond the flood and throw of Court’s partially covered flashlight, but he pushed Zack up, deeper into the dark, and he followed behind.

Soon they arrived at the abandoned mill. Here Court pulled Zack’s T-shirt blindfold off and crammed it into his own pocket.

It took the big man several seconds to adapt to the little light out here and, even in the glow of the flashlight, Zack didn’t notice the mill at first. When Court told him to move into the trees, Zack turned around and faced him.

“What’s in the trees?”

Court took his hand from the face of the light and shined two hundred lumens on the building now. “My humble abode.”

Zack looked back. After taking a few steps he saw the mill looming large and dark in the trees, just twenty yards ahead. “Oh hell no. I’m not goin’ in there.”

“Scared?”

“You better believe it.”