Ellison gets out of the car and Sarah does the same, pistol drawn, eyes scanning the horizon. It’s a gray day.
The mist isn't so much falling as hovering in the air, collecting on flesh and firearms and grass and gravestones. Considering where they are, the weather seems appropriate.
Was it really just a week ago that she regrouped here with John?
Sarah buries her bitter anger, pushes it down. It's been simmering since she realized where Weaver's instructions were taking them.
The fact that the metal is asserting any sort of claim on this location is abhorrent to everything Sarah holds dear. Just like the metal itself.
Sarah wants to rage and fight, but there's no use.
Right now her priority is finding John and stopping Judgment Day and if Weaver's cryptic instructions will further those ends, she'll play along. She has little choice.
She watches Ellison closely, but lags back several paces. He holds the GPS, heading for the coordinates.
It takes several minutes, but Ellison finally stops and looks down at the small concrete marker. It’s not like the others, not weathered yet.
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