Narrator

We move, she said, right now.

I resisted, because leaving Luke felt like killing him myself.

But then, from the brush where Luke vanished, I heard something heavy crash, big enough to shake water droplets off leaves, and a low, deep exhale that vibrated through the ground.

And then faintly, Luke shouted once, cut off abruptly.

That sound did something to my survival brain.

It didn't make me heroic.

It made me understand that if I went in there, I wouldn't find Luke.

I'd just add another body to the hollow.

Tessa dragged me away.

We ran downhill in the rain, not caring about trails anymore, just pushing through whatever openings we could find.

Slipping, catching ourselves on saplings, coughing, sobbing in short bursts, because adrenaline and grief don't play nice together.

Behind us, somewhere in the wet trees, a voice called out in my tone again.

Noah, Noah, come on.

It was close enough that I could hear the breath behind it.

I didn't answer.

I clenched my jaw until my teeth hurt and kept moving.

Night four, the shelter that wasn't a shelter.

We moved until full dark, until the only light came from our headlamps and the rain made the beams feel like they hit a wall.

We crossed the creek three times because the banks got too steep.

My boots filled with water.