“We are,” Santiago reassures him. “I just need to get something from Falling Sky first.”
When we get to Falling Sky, we don't go through the front entrance. We drive further down and take a fire road to our normal spot.
This is the cabin that we used to play in as boys—me, Levi, Grant, Santiago, and Landon. We would get into all kinds of trouble out here, sometimes with girls and sometimes just from being stupid young boys.
The cabin sits at the edge of Falling Sky Ranch, half swallowed by the forest. The branches of the pines crowded around the structure on all sides hang low enough to scrape the roof.
Santiago's great-grandfather built it from rough-hewn logs that are now darkened by time and weather. Most of the windows are broken. The surviving panes are cloudy with age and coated with dirt. The front porch sags beneath the weight of neglect, the railing missing several slats.
Directing his question to the back seat, Santiago puts the gear into park. “Could you come help me, Garth? It’s a little heavy for me, and Walk’s back has been bothering him.”
“I thought you said you were okay,” Garth directs at me.
“Old age,” I answer by way of excuse. This is the only time I'll admit that the years have been rough on my body.
Garth accepts my lie. “Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll come.”
As Santiago and Garth exit the vehicle, I follow behind them. “I’ll hold the door for you two.”
Santiago ushers Garth through the front door ahead of him. Garth hesitates as he walks across the dilapidated wood floors, stirring up dust with every footstep. The dim light makes it nearly impossible to see the inside. But I know this cabin better than my own home.
I pause in the doorway.
Something feels off. I can't put my finger on it.
The place should smell like old pine, mildew, and decades of dust. Instead, beneath the musty air, the sharp scent of fresh cleaner lingers.
Faint. Almost hidden.
My gaze sweeps the room, finding that everything looks the same.
Garth juts his head forward as if he’s trying to see what’s in front of him. “What exactly are we grabbing?”
“There’s a table in the corner.” Santiago points with his finger.
Garth shakes his head. “I don’t see a?—”
A shape breaks from the shadow behind Garth, wielding a wooden baseball bat. Garth is completely unaware as the bat comes down on the back of his head. He falls to the warped floor, a pile of dead weight. Levi keeps a hold on the handle and rests the end on his shoulder, standing over Garth’s collapsed body.
Santiago moves to stand next to Levi and nudges Garth with his boot. “I think you hit him too hard.”
“No, I didn’t,” Levi argues.
Santiago nudges Garth again. “He’s not moving.”
“He’s notdead,” Levi corrects.
Santiago flops his arms at his sides in complaint. “But now we have to wait for him to wake up.”
Levi waves to Garth with his free hand. “Just throw some water on him.”
Santiago swings his arms wide, gesturing to the land around us outside. “Do you see a well around here?”
“Shut up, you two,” I interrupt, stepping between them. “We need to get him into position before he wakes up.”
Levi makes a face at Santiago.
“What?” Santiago raises his brows. “I’m not the one who hit him.”
