The Pandemic Sequence (Book 3): The Tilian Cure (28 page)

“Anything in the cabin?” Lisa asked him, twining her fingers with his.

“No. No one’s been in there for years,” he told them all.

The descent down the mountain was funereal and somber. The quartet spoke infrequently, even Erik muzzled his complaints of aches and exhaustion. When they reached the base, weary from days of hiking, Paul could identify every year that had passed since he had last trekked the mountain. You’re a grandfather now, his mind teased. What the heck are you doing hiking up a mountain!? He saw his feelings shared in the eyes of his companions. The pains of age had been worth enduring to honor an old friend.

Two black sedans waited in the nearby parking lot. Still have twin guards, he joked silently. He slowed his pace and turned back to stare at the rising rock. Steadying himself on the newly placed placard that sprung up from freshly turned earth, Paul muttered with a grin. “Goodbye, you crazy son of a bitch.”

After easing into one of the cars, he offered a final look at the bronze sign sitting atop well-carved marble. The monument was simple, he knew, and did not measure fully to the deeds. It’ll have to be enough, he thought as he read the pair of bold words raised in relief.