Page 362 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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This doesn’t stop here.

Not for me.

Not for us.

He studies me for a long second.

Then—

“I’ll push it up the chain,” he says.

“Push harder.”

A faint, humorless smile touches his mouth.

“You’re not easy to work with.”

“Good.”

I turn away.

Because this part?

This is theirs now.

The politics.

The fallout.

The cleanup.

What matters to me?

Is done.

The tunnels are empty.

The trucks are gone.

The cages are open.

The people are safe. But they will probably never be the same.

And the man who ran it?

Isn’t getting back up.

That’s enough.

For now.

I look out over the mountain one last time.

Then I turn.

And I go home.

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