"He still might," Cole told him. "But not in the cold with wet roads and no gear that fits you. A first ride should be something you can enjoy, not something you just survive."
The boy considered that and nodded reluctantly. "Maybe when it's sunny."
"That sounds like a better plan."
Mara took Cole aside while Voss helped arrange the vehicles. "You're telling me there's a chance my husband is alive," she said. "And now you want me to go to a place I don't know, with people I don't know, and leave my truck behind. Tell me what happens if I say no."
"We stay somewhere safe, we contact Darla another way, and we keep looking for answers. You don't lose your right to decide because I'm worried."
She looked into his eyes for a long time. "You mean that."
"Yes."
"Then I'm choosing to go. I can't keep Eli in another week of questions. And I can't keep myself in one either."
Eli climbed into the back seat of Marcus's truck beside his mother, backpack on his lap and both photographs carefully tucked inside. Cole watched Mara check his belt twice. Voss briefed the drivers and asked everyone to keep the journey uneventful. The riders would travel nearby, not to perform a show of force but to provide a known group on an unfamiliar route. Nobody promised there would be no trouble, and nobody spoke as though a child needed to prove his courage.
They left Della's diner after midnight. Rain had stopped completely, but the road remained slick and trees crowded the shoulders. Cole rode near the truck and kept its headlights in sight. He could see Mara and Eli only occasionally, when road signs or passing cars threw light through the windows. It was enough to know they were there, moving through the dark toward a man who had waited eight years to tell them what he could not say before.
About halfway north, Voss signaled that vehicles had appeared behind them. Cole glanced back and saw several headlights maintaining the same distance through successive turns. He did not know whether they belonged to Cain's people or to ordinary travelers, and he refused to let uncertainty turn into recklessness. The truck continued at a safe speed while the riders remained near it. Mara was watching through the rear window, one hand resting on Eli's shoulder as the boy slept fitfully against his backpack.
A second vehicle briefly appeared at a side road, its headlights sweeping across the convoy before turning away. The moment lasted only seconds, but Cole recognized it as something intended to be noticed. It felt less like an attack than a message: somebody knew which road they were on. He looked at the truck carrying Eli and felt the shape of his responsibility settle into place. Whatever was happening between older men and buried secrets, a child should not pay for it.