Knocking Next Door

Thomas didn’t want to do this alone. He grabbed his coat, crossed the frozen street, and knocked on Greg’s door. Greg stepped out with a steaming mug in hand, eyebrows raised at the late-night visit. Thomas leaned in close, lowering his voice. “I’m going up there,” he said firmly. “Up the iceberg.” Greg blinked, half in disbelief, but he could see the fire in Thomas’s eyes. This wasn’t a joke.
Page 21 of 70