They had crossed the river and were somewhere in Arlington when Tom pulled the truck off the road and around behind a shopping complex. It was darker back there than it should have been, a lone, unbroken spot casting a pool of light at the far end of the building. The overcast sky offered only the reflection of the urban sprawl and the ember glow of the fires across the river by way of illumination. Andy could barely see his own shadow as he leapt from the truck. He almost walked into Tom as he came around the truck’s side. Cinqueda’s sudden, restraining hand on his shoulder was all that prevented a collision.