I bit back a smile and opened my own bag. Inside was a warm breakfast sandwich wrapped in paper. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until that moment.
I hesitated. “How much was?—”
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Gino cut in as he reversed out of the parking spot. “You’re our guest.”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
I tried again. “Still, I can?—”
He waved me off without turning around. “Just eat,” he said, already turning back to the road. I didn’t argue this time.
The drive shifted as we left the town centre behind. Pavement gave way to narrower roads, then long stretches of tree-lined lanes. The houses thinned until there were none at all.
Eventually, the forest closed in around us.
Tall pines and cedars rose on either side of the road, their branches weaving overhead. Sunlight broke through in fractured beams, scattering across the windshield.
The air shifted too. Less exhaust and asphalt, more damp earth, sap, and something wild underneath it all.
My coyote stirred, alert but not uneasy.
We passed what looked like an unmarked turnoff, then another. There were no signs or gates at first glance. Then the trees eventually broke.
A wide clearing opened up ahead, and a reinforced gate came into view. Cameras were mounted discreetly along the posts, motion sensors tucked near the treeline.
Gino keyed something into a small panel by his window. The gate slid open smoothly.
Beyond it, the land opened into a spread of cabins, gravel paths, and shared green spaces.
So this was the Pecan Pines packlands. Not a single compound like I’d expected, but more like a tucked-away neighbourhood where homes were spaced apart, close enough to walk between in minutes.
The truck rolled deeper inside before finally turning down a smaller paved drive and stopping in front of a modest two-storey house with an attached garage.
Levi climbed out first, stretching his arms over his head. I followed a second later, slinging my duffel over my shoulder as my boots hit gravel.
The house itself was old, but well maintained. Its faded light blue siding looked like it had been repainted more than once over the years.
But woven into the weathered exterior were details that didn’t quite match. Sleek security cameras mounted beneath the eaves.
A keypad beside the front door that looked far more advanced than anything from a hardware store. A small antenna was tucked near the roofline.
The lawn was obviously not a priority. Grass had grown a little too long, clover spreading through in uneven patches.
A few weeds pushed up near the edges of the driveway. The only neatly maintained areas were directly beneath the security equipment, as if keeping the tech clear mattered more than anything else.
The front door opened before we even reached the porch.
A guy about my age stepped out, messy brown hair sticking up in every direction like he’d just rolled out of bed. He wore a faded T-shirt with holes along the collar and baggy sweatpants that had definitely seen better days.
He squinted at me. “This the guy?”
Levi nodded. “Nico, this is Mason. Mason, Nico.”
“Hey,” I said, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “Uh. Thanks for having me.”
Nico shrugged like it was nothing. “No problem. Anything for the pack.”
Levi snorted. “Or a new graphics card.”
