Chapter 10 - The Last ShiftSix months later, the morning air over the Vermont mountains was crisp, sharp, and smelled of woodsmoke and wet pine needles.
Lena Mercer stood on the front porch of her grandfather's restored farmhouse, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands, watching the sun break over the crest of the Green Mountains.
The old timber barn had been repaired. The broken truck in the ravine had long since been hauled away. And in the center of the sunlit gravel driveway, a massive, one-hundred-and-forty-pound black Neapolitan Mastiff was lying flat on his side in the warm morning grass, his milky, blind eyes turned upward toward the warmth of the sun.
He couldn't see the mountains. He couldn't see the trees, or the blue sky, or the long winding road that led down into the valley.
He didn't need to.
He could feel the vibration of the earth under his paws. He could smell the clean mountain air carrying the scent of cedar and woodsmoke. And he could hear the steady, familiar footsteps of the girl who had walked into an empty isolation room six months ago and finally told him he could stop fighting.
Lena walked down the wooden steps, sat cross-legged in the grass right beside him, and rested her hand flat against his massive, scarred neck.
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Nero let out a long, contented sigh, closed his heavy jaws, and went back to sleep.
The shift was finally over.
