Chapter 13 - The Second Knock
The hours dragged on toward the pale, grey light of dawn.
The storm slowly began to break. The heavy deluge softened into a steady, misting drizzle, and the violent thunder receded into the eastern mountains.
Julian did not sleep. He sat on his mat, tending to the tiny flame of his brass lantern, scraping small shavings of dried coal into a crude filter he was assembling out of an old tin can. He had to be ready to walk to Red Creek when the sun cleared the ridge.
Suddenly, a sound cut through the quiet dripping of the roof.
Three short taps against the front door.
Julian froze. His hand paused over the coal shavings.
Was it a dream returning? Was it another manifestation of the divine? Or was it the brutal, worldly reality of an Enforcer patrol finally tracking his position?
He picked up the chipped iron knife from the dirt floor. He stood up slowly, keeping his boots silent against the clay, and walked to the door.
He leaned his ear against the damp pine planks.
Outside, he heard a dry, agonizing cough. Then, the sound of someone weeping—a soft, terrified, high-pitched whimpering.
"Please..." a young voice cried out from the mist. "Is anyone inside? My sister... she collapsed in the marsh. We... we need water..."
Julian lowered the knife.
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He didn't ask for a sector pass. He didn't look through the gap in the door to see if it was a trap. He didn't hesitate to calculate how many miles he would have to walk to Red Creek on an empty stomach.
Julian slid back the rusted iron bolt.
