Sam turned to look at the car and the searchers again. In the bright light streaming out of the barn, he could see the interior of the car easily. There was nobody in the passenger seat. Just the driver.

Plus the three men on foot.

That left one still unaccounted for.

Dani climbed back up next to him and took in the scene for herself.

At that moment the driver shoved open his door and got out. One of the three men in the field turned, cupped his mouth, and shouted something. Sam couldn’t make it out, but the driver nodded, rounded the car and sprinted to the open barn door. He disappeared inside.

“Bring the last guy out with you,” Dani whispered.

The man reappeared ten seconds later—still alone. He had a small bundle of objects in his hands.

Sam raised his binoculars and sighted the guy in.

He was carrying flashlights.

“Oh come on,” Dani whispered. She was still watching the open barn door. “Come on … One more…”

The doorway stayed empty.

The driver sprinted to the three other men in the field and handed out the flashlights. A moment later there were four beams out there, scanning the darkness, moving away into the knee-high stalks of corn.

No movement at the doorway. No sign of the fifth man. Nothing at all.

“Keep watching,” Sam said, and slid back down to Pierce.

He took hold of the wrapped duct tape around the guy’s wrists, and felt for the leading edge. He found it after a few seconds; he got a fingernail under it and started peeling it up.

The guy still looked like a mess. The shock of nearly dying was probably part of that, but Sam guessed it was mostly the confusion that was getting to him.

“We listen in on things we’re not supposed to,” Sam said. “And we go places we’re not supposed to. We’ve been inside some of the abandoned stations, like number fourteen, north of town. We know what Ashland really is.”

He got the end of the tape strip loose enough to pinch it between his thumb and fingertips. He began pulling it free in loops, unraveling it from around Pierce’s wrists.

The guy was staring at him intently now, processing what he’d just heard.

“We know there was a project called Rigel,” Sam said. “We know you started it ten years ago, and pulled the plug five years later. We found Station Nine this morning. We were able to speak to Mr. Coleman—for a minute or so.”

Pierce reacted, drawing in a sharp breath. “Coleman? No, that can’t be right, he was—” Pierce cut himself off, still staring at Sam. “They killed him. They beat him to death. I saw them do it. They would have killed me down there, too, but they needed me for a few more things.”