The farm wasn’t too far from where we’d picked to camp. It was truly out in the middle of acres of horse fields and farmland.

  The narrow gravel lane of the long driveway was overshadowed still by trees devoid of their leaves for winter. Beyond the lane, a darkened house stood on top of a hill. It was an old house, its condition questionable in the dark.

  There appeared to be other buildings around the property, but it was too difficult to tell what they were, likely a garage and barn. There was an expansive field in the back, and a long black fence circling an overgrown pasture.

  The house being so dark was disturbing. I regretted suggesting we head here tonight and not wait until morning. We could have set up observation tonight, just to be sure it was safe.

  What would Gabriel and I do if robbers did come back tonight?

  But at least my grandfather wouldn’t be totally alone.

  For whatever reasons, rushing into this in a hurry helped me not dwell too much and get nervous enough to back out. There was no time to think.

  This was it. This was where I came from.

  Dr. Green, Luke and Nathan parked the Tahoe up the road so they would be nearby. Gabriel and I both wore short-range radio earpieces for now.

  In the old sedan, there was no way to see in the headlights where to park as there was no other car that we could see. The drive quickly turned from gravel to flattened grass well before we reached the main house, even though there was the sound of gravel still underneath the tires.

  Gabriel rolled closer to the house and stopped the car. “Not a bad house. It’s actually kind of big.”

  It was two-story farmhouse, with an expansive porch that wrapped around part of the front and on around the left side of the house. The white paint seemed new. The porch seemed newly painted as well, giving most of the house the appearance of being well kept. The twin chimneys, however, had some damage, with missing bricks closer to the top.

  Gabriel and I exited the car when we heard the first bark coming from inside the house. Uncle London hadn’t mentioned a dog.

  It continued, and got wildly more excited the closer we got.

  Gabriel had placed a foot on the bottom step ahead of me when a face appeared just behind the screen door. It was shadowed, but then something else appeared beyond the door that was cracked open.

  The mouth of a rifle, pointing in our direction.

  Gabriel instantly raised his hands. “Mr. Sorenson!” he cried out and stepped to the side to get out of the way of the gun, before he remembered I was behind him and then took to covering me. “Wait, please, your son sent us. Didn’t he call you?”

  “What’s my son’s name?” the old man called to us.

  “London,” Gabriel said and then backed off the porch step, and positioned himself where he was pushing me backward. I braced his back as a warning of where I was and then shifted the direction he was moving. Fear had taken over. I was worried if I moved too much that my grandfather might start shooting.

  After Gabriel said the name, the gun was still up, but only for a minute as if he were trying to decide. “Let the dog greet you.”

  Before we could figure out what he meant, the screen door inched open further, enough for a large dog to race out and leap off the porch at us.

  “Stand still!” Gabriel called back to me, keeping his hands up. I did the same, stiffening quickly.

  The dog stopped barking and approached us, sniffing first at Gabriel, and then realizing I was behind him, came to sniff at me.

  The old man threw questions at Gabriel while the dog inspected us. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

  “Your son mentioned that you had a spare room for rent. And maybe you could use a hand to chase away those thieves if they come back?”

  “I don’t need any help,” my grandfather said. “Just go away. I can take care of myself.”

  I breathed through gritted teeth, which got cold quickly in the frosty air. This wasn’t going to work. He was already sending us away.

  The dog, however, seemed to have calmed down and within seconds, was licking at my hand. I offered it for sniffing, and when it did, it then gently lifted my hand, as if to ask me to pet.

  “Who is that behind you?” my grandfather asked. He was still holding up the gun but he had opened the screen door and was clearly not as afraid as before.

  I stepped up so I was beside Gabriel. I tried to smile in an effort to appear friendly, but I was nervous and I was sure I was baring my teeth more than I was smiling at all. I hoped my clothes, the makeup, the hair color and the contacts that changed my eye color would be enough to disguise me. “My name is Samantha,” I said. “We told London we would come by and talk about staying with you. Just for a little while.”

  My grandfather huffed. “My son’s got a lot of friends around here. I don’t remember you.” However, he lowered the gun and left it to lean against the wall.

  “We’re sorry to come over when it’s this dark,” I said.

  It seemed prudent to remain here. He was answering the door with a gun. Clearly, he was afraid out here alone. If we could get someone out here to stay with him long term, it would be better.

  Now seeing the place, I didn’t blame his son to be asking nearly complete strangers to come stay with his father. It was a lot to ask anyone. I wondered if we could convince him to put in some security. “We can come back in the morning if you’d like.”

  My grandfather’s jaw clenched shortly and then released. His tone changed, softening considerably instead of talking to Gabriel. “Not that late, really. A man’s just gotta protect his property.”

  “It’s a nice place,” I said, trying to be more gentle. He was proud, so maybe offering to help him was the wrong approach. “We told London how our parents basically kicked us out and we’ve been looking for a room to rent. At least until we can get on our feet. Only a week or two maybe.”

  “Well... wouldn’t want kids out in the cold.” He stood up a little taller and turned the light on behind him, illuminating my grandfather.

  He was about my own height with thinning hair on top and a hand width’s length of hair around the crown, all white. He had a strong frame, but with a belly that left him adjusting his ill-fitting jeans. He wore a collared blue shirt, clean but wrinkled like he’d slept in it.

  He looked at the two of us in the light, especially me. “You need a place to stay tonight?”

  This note of concern in him made my heart ache. We were strangers to him and I hadn’t expected him to have concerns at all about anyone.

  There was a numbness developing in my skin, and it infected my brain. It was all at once, being here, seeing his face, realizing we were related. My tongue suddenly glued itself to the top of my mouth.

  When I failed to respond, Gabriel told my grandfather a short story about how my parents had been abusive and his father recently died and left him penniless and alone. A lot of it was truth, with a few details thrown in to make it believable. It was the lack of particular facts, the leaving out about Pam, that his father had actually died years ago and not recently, about me having found the Academy and other people to stay with and who cared about me... but it was close to true enough. Also if we got asked about it later, we could be confident in answering because most of what he was saying was true.

  Gabriel concluded, “So you see, we just need somewhere safe for a little while. Just until we can earn enough money to get our own place.”

  My grandfather had listened and asked a few questions. “I can’t believe people these days. How they raised their kids... Well, it makes sense why my son would send you to me. Although it would have been better if he would have come...”

  It was at that moment that another vehicle appeared at the start of the drive.

  “It’s your uncle!” Dr. Green said into my ear, in the earpiece I had forgotten was there.

  My nerves tightened again. It was all happening so fast. First my grandfather, then my uncle.

  Grandfather, however, immediately motioned to us to come inside. “Get out of the way,” he said, picking up his gun again.

  What could we say? We couldn’t suggest we knew who it was, and we couldn’t stop him from defending himself from what he likely suspected to be an intruder.

  “Your son said he’d come by,” Gabriel said. “It might be him.”

  “You never know...” Grandfather said. “Get out of the way. Just in case.”

  Gabriel and I shuffled ourselves to a nearby window to watch. The dog stayed near his leg, waiting and then barking rapidly as the vehicle got close and parked beside where we had parked. It was a white truck with a large sign on the side for a painting company.

  From the driver’s side, out stepped a tall man, in his late thirties or early forties perhaps. He spotted the gun immediately as if anticipating it and he waved his hands above his head to get his attention. “Stop pointing that damn thing at me, you crazy old man!”

  This sent my grandfather shouting back at him. “I should have fired!”

  “Who gave you that gun?”

  “I can have whatever I want! It’s my property!”

  There was a lot of shouting then from both of them, and with such anger and that my grandfather kept raising and lowering the gun as if to ward off his son and then kept changing his mind.

  Gabriel reached for my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and held firm. We both waited for an opportunity to intervene. They really didn’t get along at all.

  Gabriel waited for only a few minutes before he side-stepped next to my grandfather, resting a gentle hand on his elbow. “Sorry to interrupt.” He said it in such a calming, disarming way, as if to remind him that we were there.

  This sent my grandfather into a confused jumble of muttered words, and then he looked at me, realizing I was there watching and terrified. He lowered the gun and put it beside the door where it had been.

  The argument had been so bitter, I was surprised they hadn’t come to blows. I’d seen fights start at Ashley Waters with fewer words exchanged than this.

  With the gun set aside and the argument over, my uncle came to the stair of the porch, peering in at Gabriel standing by his father. “Gabriel, right?”

  Gabriel nodded and opened the screen door so he could offer a hand to shake. “Yes. Gabriel Coleman.”

  This got London smiling. He had pleasant plump cheeks when he smiled. “Yes, lots of Colemans around here. Which is your clan?”

  “The... uh,” Gabriel seemed confused and then sputtered the name of the street that his father lived on. “Steve Coleman lives there. If that’s one you know about.”

  Uncle London chuckled. “Sure. Everyone knows him.” He said this like he assumed Gabriel knew exactly what his emphasis meant.

  Gabriel only grinned in response, probably about as confused as I was. And what could he say? He’d only reconnected with him earlier that day.

  However, London didn’t notice the unvoiced confusion. He’d turned to me. He wore a white T-shirt, a size or two too large for his larger frame, with the sleeves rolled up about an inch. He looked a lot like Grandfather, complete with a belly, but with much broader shoulders. His hair was pitch dark, just a little thinning at the edges of his temples. He was much taller, too, and some features of his face were softer than his father’s. “And you’re Samantha?” He offered a hand.

  My heart stilled and I held my breath as I offered my hand to shake. His large hand swallowed up mine easily and he held strong for one second and then let go.

  He kept his eyes on me. To the point I was uncomfortable and unsure what to say.

  So I went with gratitude. “Thank you for suggesting we stay here.”

  His jaw slackened when I spoke, but he recovered quickly, the pitch of his voice changing oddly in places. “It’s a nice farmhouse. Lots of space. Large bedrooms, two baths. Really comfortable.”

  With the emergencies over, I could finally look around. The house itself seemed nice. We were standing in a very large family room, with a wide, light-colored pine floor and white painted walls and simple trim. What little furniture there was in the room had been pushed to the walls; a rolltop desk, open and without a chair, a single green and white plaid couch, with two wooden side tables, and an oversized entertainment center that was empty except for some wires poking out. There was a fireplace, too, that was clear of everything except for some old batteries and a smoke alarm that had been removed from the wall and placed there... with a thick layer of dust on top.

  Immediately to the right of the front door was a large kitchen, but from where I was, I could only see some counters and cabinets and a large kitchen dining set. There was another door, closed, on the other side of the living room.

  “Now you don’t get to decide if anyone stays here,” Grandfather said to his son. “It’s my place. I get to say who stays and who goes.”

  “You already said it was fine!” London said, frustration rising in his voice. “Can’t you remember anything?”

  Before they could go any further, Gabriel inserted himself so he was positioned between Grandfather and the gun. “We’ll only stay if you want us to, Mr. Sorenson,” Gabriel said. “We never want to be where we aren’t wanted.”

  It looked like Grandfather was about to say more, but he glanced at me and his shoulders lowered. The air of annoyance seemed to clear from him. “No, no, it’s okay,” he said. He warded off his son with a hand. “They can stay. You don’t have to be here.”

  London looked like he was going to say more, but realizing he’d essentially won if he just let his father believe he’d been the one to settle it, he just sighed and walked out onto the porch but called to us, “I’ll come check on you all later! Call me if you need anything!” He marched to his truck. Within seconds, the engine roared, and the truck rolled backward, nearly hitting the blue sedan in his hurry to get out.

  It was clear someone was needed here. My grandfather couldn’t answer the door every time with his rifle in hand. One day, he might accidentally fire it on someone... like his own son.

  I swallowed thickly, not having realized I’d been breathing very shallowly while this whole thing had been happening. It was leaving me feeling lightheaded.

  Gabriel spoke with my grandfather. “Again, really sorry for coming to you like this. We didn’t mean for any trouble.”

  This seemed to put my grandfather in a much happier mood. “No, don’t worry about it. Also, call me Brian. Are you hungry?”

  “Oh we just ate,” Gabriel said.

  “There’s all sorts of food in the fridge.” He spoke as if Gabriel said he was hungry, and Brian inched toward the kitchen. “Let me show you around.”

  It was less a tour of the kitchen and more like the old man showing Gabriel and myself where all the better food was kept. While there were supplies of beans and rice and enough cans of food to feed a small army, most of it was left untouched, looking more like a grocery store shelf. The fridge and one cabinet had ready-to-eat food, and he said he much preferred these. There were a couple of tubs of homemade fudge in his fridge someone had brought him. He offered some to me and Gabriel and we each took a piece. I was still feeling numb, and maybe I was in shock. Gabriel carried more of the conversation than I did.

  The dog had followed us, sitting at his owner’s heels once the fudge was out and with pleading eyes, whined at him.

  “Shush, Chica,” my grandfather said to the dog.

  Chica immediately quieted but remained sitting, waiting expectantly.

  Grandfather Brian took a few bites of his piece of fudge and then gave a hefty corner of it to the dog. The dog ate it in a couple bites.

  Gabriel made a face. “Isn’t chocolate bad for dogs?”

  “She loves it,” he said. “Hasn’t hurt her yet.”

  “What kind of dog is she?” I asked to change the subject.

  “Mutt, as far as I can tell. Came from a litter from a neighbor up the road.” He reached down and patted the dog on the head. “A little useless but mostly harmless.”

  The dog was definitely mutt-like, with an orange coat that faded into a white underbelly. It was like a fatter retriever type with very short hair, a long snout and dark brown eyes.

  After the kitchen tour, he took us through the living room and went on with a short tour.

  Beyond the door that had been closed was a formal foyer and a front door. Apparently, we had gone through a side door, even if that side door was facing the driveway.

  “The driveway used to extend out to this side of the house,” he said. “Well, driveway but actually a carriage lane. It’s an old house.”

  “There’s the only staircase up to the second floor,” he motioned to the elegant wooden staircase with white painted paneling. “There’s two bedrooms but don’t go in the...” He waved toward the back of the house. “That side. It’s locked now. And the other side is open but it needs work. It’s not safe in there yet.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Gabriel asked.

  “Lots of bees,” he said. “Can’t get them out.” He then motioned, again while standing at the base of the stairs as if to suggest he wasn’t going to go up them tonight, to the other side of the house. “The second bedroom is fine but there isn’t anything in there now. Those thieves took nearly everything in it. I don’t know why I locked it. Nothing much left in there.”

  I grimaced, uncomfortable raising the question I wanted to ask. “Did the thieves take a lot?”

  “Anything they could carry out before I came to. Took the big television, the DVD player, some guns I had, a bunch of other stuff. Left the place a mess. They even tried to open the safe, but those dumbasses never got into it. Don’t know what they thought they were looking for in there.” He wiped at the air as if erasing the memory. “They won’t get a second chance.”

  After that, he showed us a front formal parlor behind a set of glass doors. The parlor was off to the left of the staircase, at the start of a hallway that led to the back of the house. “I usually sleep in this room,” he said, indicating the parlor. He opened the door, and pulled it aside to let us see in inside, as we couldn’t go far inside the room.