Chapter 7: The Railway Yards
The rusted iron gates of the abandoned railway yard groaned in the damp autumn wind as Julian’s sedan crept slowly down the overgrown gravel drive. The American flag sticker on the back bumper was peeling at the edges, matching the dilapidated state of the sprawling brick warehouses that loomed against the gray sky.
"Julian, this is a trap," Sarah whispered from the passenger seat, gripping the door handle so hard her knuckles turned white. "Thomas wants us here. It’s too obvious."
"It’s the only lead we have," Julian replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty loading docks ahead. He adjusted the bandage on his temple, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the bruised skin. "If Thomas is hiding something, it’s not in the house anymore. It’s here, where Clara used to run the shipping logistics thirty years ago."
In the backseat, Leo sat quietly, clutching the wooden puzzle to his chest. He hadn't spoken since they left the house. His pale skin looked almost translucent in the dreary light, his messy light brown hair falling across his forehead.
Julian parked the sedan behind a rusted shipping container, cutting the engine. The silence that followed was heavy and oppressive, broken only by the distant caw of a crow.
"Stay in the car," Julian ordered, reaching for the door handle.
"No," Sarah said instantly, opening her door before he could stop her. "We are in this together, Julian. I’m not sitting in a car waiting for another man with a flashlight to knock us out."
Julian hesitated, then nodded. He reached back and patted Leo’s knee. "Stay down, buddy. Keep the doors locked. We'll be right back."
They crept toward the rusted metal side door of Warehouse 4. The heavy padlock had been cut, leaving the door slightly ajar. A thin sliver of fluorescent light spilled out onto the gravel.
Julian pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping cautiously into the vast, cavernous interior. The air was thick with the smell of motor oil and dust. Rows of wooden crates stretched out into the gloom.
Suddenly, a heavy metallic click echoed from the rafters above them.
Julian froze, pulling Sarah behind a stack of wooden pallets. Looking up, he saw a security camera pivoting slowly in their direction, its small red LED recording their every move.
"We've been spotted," Sarah hissed.
May you like
Before they could turn back toward the door, heavy footsteps echoed from behind a stack of steel drums. A tall man in a dark trench coat stepped out into the aisle, blocking their exit.
Julian’s breath caught. It wasn't Thomas. It was a man he hadn't seen in over fifteen years—Arthur’s former business partner, Marcus Vance, who was supposed to have died in a plane crash back in ninety-eight.
