Then a motorcycle engine cut through the stillness.
A matte-black Indian Scout slid between the lanes of stopped traffic before stopping directly on the tracks themselves. The rider removed his helmet slowly, revealing a man in his late thirties with sunburned skin, dark hair tied loosely at the back, and tattoos winding up both arms like faded memories. His name, though nobody knew it yet, was Caleb “Cade” Walker, a former Army combat engineer who had returned home years earlier and rarely spoke about his past.
Instead of turning around or accelerating across before the gates fully locked, Cade killed the engine and remained there.
People noticed immediately.
A woman leaned out of her sedan window.
“Hey! You can’t stay there!”
Cade didn’t react. His gaze drifted down the tracks toward the distant curve where the train would soon appear. Wind tugged at his leather jacket, and for a brief moment several drivers noticed the way he held the front of it closed with one arm — not casually, but protectively.
