“Stay quiet and do exactly what I say,” Wilfred commanded as he motioned Ezra and Milo to stay behind him.

The single gleam-gem cast strange shadows over Wilfred’s face as he approached, and the night wind whistled like a disturbed spirit through the gaps in the warehouse. Flicking the door open, Wildfred scanned the shadow-obscured room through the tip of his gun.

The warehouse seemed ancient and, on top of that, abandoned. Are you sure anyone is here? Ezra wanted to ask, but he knew he’d get scolded for speaking up.

Twisting through dark hallways, Wilfred’s boots shuffled silently through the dust-claimed floor. Each time Milo or Ezra so much as breathed loudly, he glared back at them. To Ezra’s right, he gazed through a door frame that had been robbed of its door and into a dilapidated office. A cushioned chair lay on its side, and cobwebs were beginning to drag it into the floor. Filing cabinets hung haphazardly from metal rails, completely empty as if they had been ransacked by someone wanting to leave nothing behind.

Ezra realized he didn’t even know what Wilfred was looking for, and if it was Barry he wanted to find, it didn’t make sense. How could Barry work at a warehouse that’s abandoned? Passing the room, Ezra stopped himself from coughing as dust choked him. It must have been a long time too. Wilfred steadily went on, and Ezra wondered what was going through his head. Did he expect this?

“Why are we…” Milo spoke up before Wilfred cut him off with a violent shush.

Wilfred pointed through another doorway that glowed with light from outside. Catching up to him, Ezra saw the massive room that lay beyond. Empty shelves collected motes of dust, and the rusted brackets, keeping them all together, looked to barely hold their own weight. Fine particles swirled in a ray of light that punctured through a hole in the roof while the corners of the room were held onto by shadows. Occasionally boxes ranging from the size of Ezra’s head to as tall as Wilfred dotted the shelves.

“I want to search every single one,” Wilfred whispered as he cautiously scanned the room. Once satisfied, he holstered his gun and stepped into the light.

Ezra did a quick check and noted about fifteen boxes. It wouldn’t take too long, but he wondered if anything important had been left behind.

Shuffling into the room, they trod carefully down the metal stairs that lead to shelves below. Wilfred grabbed the first box, only a few steps ahead, and opened the flaps. Not satisfied with its contents, he shoved it back onto the dirty rack.

Milo passed by and took a peek. “Reams of blank paper,” he whispered as Wilfred moved on.

They split up to locate the other fourteen boxes. The first few Ezra found lay on low shelves. A long box contained a tripod newer than what everything else looked like, while a smaller box a few shelves down sheltered several magazines. All the magazines contained similar content on business trends, yet the majority of them were dated nearly eight years ago.

How long has this place been shut down? Flipping through a few more pages, Ezra found nothing of worth and closed the box.

“Hey,” Milo called in a sharp breath from a few shelves ahead of Ezra. “Help me get that one down.” He pointed to a large box on the last rack nearly three times his height.

As Ezra got closer, the ridiculous height of the box began to dawn on him. “There’s no way we can get that.”

“Just boost me up and hold the shelf steady. Wilfred said to check every box.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, cupped his hands, and squatted down. Without hesitation, Milo latched onto the shelf and stepped into Ezra’s foothold. Boosting himself up with a grunt, the entire shelf groaned under his weight. Anxiously, Ezra watched Milo climb higher and higher. Each squeak of the metal echoed through the entire warehouse until Milo finally made it to the top.

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“What’s in the box!” Ezra yelled, figuring there was no point in keeping quiet anymore.

“Another box!” Milo shouted back. “But this one’s metal and it needs a code to open.”

“Can you make it down with it?” Ezra spotted Wilfred framed by the shelves on the outside of the room. Wilfred glared at him and then tilted his head in an unspoken question once he realized Milo was on top of the shelf. Frowning, he took the corner quickly into the path between shelves and marched towards them.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I could throw it down.”

“Absolutely not!” Wilfred roared, and Ezra jumped. The old man was behind him sooner than he expected. “You don’t know what's in there. You dimwits could break it.”

Milo lifted a black box out and held it against his chest. “Man, this is heavy.” The shelf wobbled as Milo tested where his center of mass was. Ezra held on and stabilized the decaying structure the best he could. “So how do you propose getting this down?” He grumbled as Wilfred didn’t provide any answers. After a few more moments of silence, Milo made a motion to toss the box. “Maybe your face can catch it, old man!”

Wilfred flinched, only slightly, but it was enough to force Ezra to stifle a laugh. “Be patient,” Wilfred grumbled. “You seekers are too impulsive. How about this? Place the box on the rack below you and then climb down. Repeat that for each tier. Simple enough,” he added and shot a stare as deadly as his vibro-crystal gun.

“Fine.” Milo sighed and kicked the cardboard box off the top.

Rust-ridden metal creaked as the entire shelf swayed from that one simple movement. Bots snapped and brackets dissolved into dust, and before Ezra could do anything else, the entire shelf collapsed as Wilfred pushed him out of the way. Next to them, the shelves on either side were pulled down too as dust plumed in massive clouds that enveloped everything around them.

As the night became quiet again and the dirt was beginning to settle, Ezra called out. “Milo! Are you alright? Milo!” His heart raced, and memories of Owen’s body flooded his mind. Next, a vision of Milo lying contorted in the wreckage assaulted him, and he yelled louder. “MILO!”

“I’m good. I’m alright.” A voice coughed from above him. Looking up, Milo floated in the air with a big grin on his face and the black box levitating above. “I should have thought of this sooner. Would’ve been easier without everything breaking.”

Gently Milo lowered himself down as Wilfred emerged from a screen of dust, brushing the dirt from his grey coat. He glanced up at the two of them, and his eyes went wide. “Behind me. Now! Both of you.”

“What? I got your stupid box.” Milo’s face a mixture of confusion and frustration. “And undamaged too.”

Within seconds Wilfred pulled out his gun and fired off a shot between the two of them. Dust swirled around the bullet, and Ezra’s ears rang before either of them realized what had just happened.

Behind them a growl turned to a whimper, and Wilfred commanded again. “Get behind me now!”

Both of them sprinted as Wilfred fired off two more shots. Before Ezra could ask a question, he saw what struck urgency into Wilfred. Beyond the shelves and the single ray of light that illuminated the room, a man stood behind what looked like starved dogs. Yet the animal's ferocious eyes made them look more alive than anything else in the room.

“Do you know him?” Ezra said as he glanced at Wilfred with panicked eyes.

“No idea. But it seems like he doesn’t want us snooping around here.” Slotting another three bullets into his gun, he clicked it back into firing position. “Keep the box safe. He can’t have it no matter what.”

The dogs, if Ezra could even call them that, dashed through the remaining shelves as Wilfred’s first shoot clinked against the floor. “Get high,” Ezra said to Milo. “High as you can. I’ll stay and help Wilfred.”

Milo nodded and dashed up the stairs out of the main storage area. Ezra refocused his attention on the approaching enemies. As of now, he could only see two. Taking a deep breath, Ezra reached for the sword sticking out of the top of his backpack.

“What’re you doing, kid?” Wilfred grumbled as he prepared for another shot.

“Making sure you don’t get killed.”

A small puff of air exited Wilfred’s nostrils. The closest thing to a laugh that Ezra had heard from him. “Stay if you like, but I’m not the one that needs protecting.” Raising his gun to the sky, he let the two dogs come closer and closer until Ezra wondered if Wilfred had gone mad. “Don’t get in my way, kid.” And suddenly he was gone.

Ezra froze as the dogs leaped into the air seconds away from tearing his face off until suddenly they went limp as their heads buckled to the side. Only one shot went off. Wilfred stood at the end of the aisle to Ezra’s right. Blowing the smoke off his gun, he grinned at Ezra’s shock.