Randy Terri's Arc

Chapter 11 of 11

Randy drove the woman to the clearing where he'd found the dead man three weeks ago. The sun had set an hour before, and the headlights cut across empty ground until he stopped twenty feet from the concrete pillar. He left the engine running and handed her the flashlight from his glove box. Sinclair was already there. He sat in a folding chair next to the vault's steel security door, a blanket draped over his knees and a thermos at his feet. A crowbar leaned against the door frame — old metal, rust-stained, with dark patches that could have been blood or just decades of corrosion. Sinclair didn't stand when Randy's headlights swept over him. He just lifted one hand in greeting and stayed put. Randy killed the engine and stepped out. The woman followed, her hand on the door frame like she was deciding whether to stay or bolt. Randy walked toward Sinclair slowly, keeping his posture loose. Sinclair had positioned himself between them and the entrance, and the crowbar was close enough to his chair that Randy understood the message. Sinclair wasn't leaving, and he wasn't asking permission. "I told you I wanted in," Sinclair said. "You bring her, you bring me. That's the deal." He stood and picked up the crowbar, holding it low but ready. "You can pull me out, or you can follow me down. But I'm going." Randy looked at the woman. She was staring at the door, her jaw set. Then he looked back at Sinclair, who'd been sitting out here in the dark with a weapon and a chair, waiting for exactly this moment. Randy had brought someone else into this, and now Sinclair was forcing the choice Randy had been avoiding since the watcher locked that gate. He could turn around, protect what he had left, and lose access to the truth sitting under his land. Or he could go back down with two people who had their own reasons for being there, and deal with whatever the watcher did when they found out. Randy took the crowbar from Sinclair's hand and tested its weight. Then he turned toward the door and pulled it open. The woman went in first, her flashlight beam cutting down the tunnel. Sinclair followed, and Randy came last, pulling the door shut behind them. He'd made his decision. The land mattered more than the business, and the truth mattered more than safety. Whatever came next, he'd see it through.