The lead Suburban braked before the National Guard checkpoint. An old M113 armored personnel carrier, basically a bulletproof box on treads, blocked the road. The soldiers had been driven under cover, sitting in their vehicles trying to stay out of the horrible rain, lashing wind, and scattered frog showers. They regarded us warily as our convoy approached. One of the soldiers manned the big.50 mounted on the armored personnel carrier and swiveled it in our general direction.

Boone and Harbinger exited the lead vehicle and approached the soldiers, hands held wide, indicating that they were no danger. After the events of the last few days, the soldiers weren't going to take any chances. I noted that having the APC parked in the center of the road was kind of redundant, since the storm had blown several large trees down, forming a very effective roadblock right behind their position. Some smart NCO had some of his men spread out into the trees.

"Poor guys. Stuck out in this weather. What are they supposed to do if a tornado hits? Hide under that tank?" Trip asked.

"It's their job. They're doing what they have to do," Lee said. I felt his hands pull on the back of my seat as he tried to get a better view. "I hope they let us through."

The radio crackled, "Pitt. Come up here. Just you."

"Roger that," I answered. "Be right back, guys." I pulled my black raincoat tight and stepped out of the warm vehicle into the screaming rain. The coat was bulky and long enough that it hid Abomination. I wasn't about to go anywhere this close to the Cursed One without my gun. I struggled to hold my hood down as the wind tried to tear it away. Branches tumbled across the road. It was raining sideways. I splashed down the road, past several other vans and SUVs, Hunters inside looking out at me from their relative comfort. I reached the roadblock.

Boone was speaking with one of the Guard. They appeared to be arguing. "What's going on?" I shouted to be heard over the wind.

"Boone's trying to bluster his way through. He just barely got out of the Guard himself and these are his people. They still won't let us through without permission from the Feds stationed at the cavern itself, and they ain't responding on the radio."

"Figure they're dead?"

"Something like that," he answered. "Do you sense anything?"

"I'm not psychic, Earl."

"Do me a favor and try," he ordered. "You have a connection with this thing. We need to exploit every advantage. It's worth a shot."