Alicia leaned forward, scanning the wall of tree trunks and thick underbrush ahead of them. She didn’t want to believe they’d have to go all the way back down that road. And then she saw what looked like a break in the brush.

“Hang on. Is that a path?”

Rover in hand, Jack stepped out of the car. This time Alicia followed.

“Good eye, Alicia,” he said, pointing to a thin footpath trailing off into the brush. “Lucky the leaves are gone. No way you’d see that if the brush was greened up. And that’s a good thing.”

“Why?”

“Could mean someone doesn’t want it found too easily. Let’s go.”

Alicia pulled her coat collar more tightly around her neck. They’d traveled north, they were on a hilltop, the sun was hiding, and a wind was rising. She wished she’d dressed warmer.

The path threaded left and right around trees and boulders for a good fifty yards before it opened into a wide clearing. Alicia gasped when she saw the old log cabin that stood at its center. Those logs were the only thing old about the scene. The rest was all high-tech. The cabin’s roof and much of the yard around it were decked with photoelectric solar panels. Also on the roof, jutting twenty-five or thirty-feet above the solar panels there, stood a strange-looking antenna.

“I’m going to be very surprised if this isn’t the place,” Jack said.

He put the Rover down and let it run. It rocked this way and that as it plowed through the weeds, but it moved inexorably toward the cabin’s front door.

“One more check,” Jack said.

As he carried the Rover around toward the north side, Alicia moved closer to the cabin. She noticed that the windows were sealed… bricked over. Someone did not want visitors.

“Look at this,” Jack called from her right. “I moved it ninety degrees to the north, and now it’s running south… right at this cabin. No doubt about it, Alicia. We’ve found it. This is the place.”

Alicia rubbed her upper arms through her coat. Now she was really cold.

Suddenly Jack was at her side. “Here,” he said, handing her the Rover. “Hold this while I get us inside.”

“Going to pick the lock?” she said.

“Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my pick set.” He bent and looked closer at the lock. “Too bad. It’s a Yale. I’m good with Yales. Nope… looks like I’m going to have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

So saying, he leaped forward and slammed his foot against the door just inches from the lock face. The sound of the impact echoed away down the hill.

But the door hadn’t budged.

“I’ll be damned,” Jack said, checking out the hinges. “This door opens outward. Weird. And that’s going to make it even tougher.”