Chapter 7: The Journey to the Mill
The predawn mist clung to the damp earth as Evelyn and Thomas navigated the rugged mountain trails in the dark, their steps muffled by a thick carpet of pine needles. Lily was bundled warmly in the back seat of Thomas's rugged four-wheel-drive truck, sleeping soundly through the bumpy ride as they descended deeper into the valley toward the abandoned timber mill. The structure was a relic of the late nineteenth century, its skeletal wooden framework rotting away beside a fast-flowing river whose rushing waters provided a natural cover of white noise against any potential pursuers.
Thomas parked the truck behind a rusted sheet-metal shed, cutting the headlights immediately. The interior cab was dark except for the faint glow of the dashboard clock reading 5:15 AM. "We’re early," Thomas whispered, checking the safety on his hunting rifle before leaning it against the center console. "Stay inside the vehicle with Lily while I scout the perimeter. If anyone else is waiting there, we abort immediately."
"I am coming with you," Evelyn said, opening her door with a quiet click. "I am not sitting here waiting in the dark while Marcus risks his life for us."
Thomas opened his mouth to argue, but one look into Evelyn’s fierce, unyielding eyes—the exact same expression she had worn when she stood over Katherine in the ballroom—made him swallow his words. He simply nodded, stepping out into the damp morning air and leading the way through the thick ferns toward the decaying mill entrance.
The air smelled of damp wood, rust, and river silt. As they rounded the corner of the primary sorting floor, a lone figure stepped out from beneath the sagging timber overhang. It was Marcus, his grey hair disheveled, clutching a heavy leather briefcase against his chest. He looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing his eyes beneath the dim light of dawn.
"Thank God you’re here," Marcus breathed heavily, walking quickly toward them. "The security system update triggered an alert in the east wing, but I managed to reset the logs before anyone checked the terminal. Here is the master drive." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, metallic silver flash drive, extending it toward Evelyn.
Before Evelyn’s fingers could brush the metal casing, the sharp beam of a high-powered flashlight cut through the morning fog from the access road behind them.
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"Don't move!" a harsh voice echoed across the clearing. Two burly men in tactical black security gear emerged from the tree line, heavy handguns drawn and aimed directly at their group.
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