Subconsciously, he's keeping watch on the horizon, eyes on the treeline, or nonchalantly checking in any shadows - the few there are, this time of day - just in case.

(He knows the date - year, roughly, given the information Kate's told him - and he knows it's nowhere near but his instincts won't shut down. He doesn't want them to shut down, not now. Not when he's riding alongside her father. They will never shut down.)

He uses the sun and the rotation they've been trailing along to place himself.

"This where..."

His voice trails off as he sees the break in the fence-line up ahead, question answered by the state of the wire and wood.