Narrator

The voice waited a beat, like it expected an answer.

Then it said, softer, Come on now.

And then, after another beat, it whistled again, that same little pattern, and the woods swallowed it.

I lay there for a long time, sweating inside my sleeping bag, listening for footsteps that never came.

The knocking didn't return.

Eventually, exhaustion took me again.

In the morning, Luke acted like it was a funny story.

Some drunk hunter, he said, packing up.

Or kids.

Tessa didn't comment.

She just moved faster than she had the day before, like she wanted miles under her boots.

I didn't tell Luke that when I went to pee behind a tree, I found a strip of bark peeled clean off the trunk at shoulder height, fresh and pale, like something had rubbed it with force.

I didn't tell him because I didn't want to watch his excitement turn into something else.

Day two.

We meet the first men and the forest starts guiding us.

The second day was supposed to be the long climb and ridge travel, putting us deeper into the loop.

The weather held.

The light was bright.

The ridge trail was narrow, sometimes rocky, sometimes soft with needles.

We saw hawks circling on thermals.