CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Garrou had approached quietly, a job made easier by the wet ground and the sound of rain pelting against everything. He’d crept up to around fifty yards away from the cabin, then inched his way around to get a better view. He wanted to get a good look at the place, so he’d know what he was getting himself into.
Garrou could see it was a tiny log cabin, most likely one-room, only one door in the front with a window flanking it, a lone window on either side of the cabin. He saw the windows were covered and locked, with reinforcing boards nailed over the shutters. Garrou knew he could tear them off the wall, shutters and boards together, but the window was narrow; he feared losing the element of surprise. Though he could smash through the window, he knew it was too slim
