Chapter SixDAWN SNUCK UP like a guerrilla, and it was dingy and gray as the dusk. The wind soughed, sending little ripples down the canvas tarp, and the sidings flapped a reveille. Roark awoke first. It was always so. Regardless of the demons the night delivered him, he awoke with a jolt, percolating inside, ready to face a brand new day. His optimism ebbed quickly this morning however, as the realization of where he was headed hit him. Worst of all was the murky morning, cold and gray and compressing. He hated the monsoon mornings.
Grimm heard Roark’s cot creak and sat up, pumping his legs up and down like pistons. He shivered and pulled a blanket around his shoulders. His nose and the tips of his ears were red, and he could see his own breath. He kicked Hines’ cot, but Hines only grumbl
