Circling outside, he discovered a rotted patch of wall. Carefully, he pried loose boards, each creak shooting panic through him. Finally, he carved a gap large enough to slip in. Darkness enveloped him. The shack smelled of mold, stagnant water, and the sharp tang of fear.
He crawled behind stacked crates, eyes on Luna’s cage across the room. The criminals were absorbed in categorizing their loot, grumbling about the damp conditions. Raccoons chattered softly. Marcus felt every heartbeat pulse in his ears, tension coiling in his muscles. One careless noise might blow his cover.