A screech cut through the still woods, and I glanced over my shoulder. Brianne floundered, one leg in the icy stream as she tried to climb back to her feet.
“Shit.” I raced back down to her and gripped her forearm, dragging her from the shallow stream.
She shivered, her teeth chattering. “I-I slipped.”
“Come on.” I eyed her wet feet and legs.
“She okay?” Gavin made it back to us.
“I think so, but she got wet.”
He shook his head, frustration creasing his brow.
“So cold.” Her eyes squeezed shut, misery pouring out of them in delicate tears.
“I know.” I had nothing else to say, no promises of help or warmth. We were hunted and freezing; hope was out of reach. “Let’s go.”
I took her arm and we resumed our trek, her one wet shoe squishing with each step. Our pace slowed even more as her breathing grew labored. The cold was seeping away her strength, her will. I felt it, too.
She paused to rest against a tree as Gavin and I kept going.
“Move, Brianne. Come on,” Gavin barked.
Wiping her face with the back of her glove, she started trudging upward again. When we were halfway to the top of the ridge, I slipped on a wet pile of leaves and slid before Gavin caught my arm and hefted me up.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
We were both winded, but wouldn’t stop. After more long minutes of climbing, we reached the top.
I bent over, gulping in air.
“Stand up straight and put your arms over your head,” Gavin said through wheezes. “It helps.”
I did as he’d instructed, though it was agony at first. I leaned my head back, gripping my wrists at the back of my neck. I inspected the sky. No longer an inky black, it was dotted with stars. The Milky Way split the center, its mass of blooming light like a road we could follow. A beautiful path, but cold and distant.
The burning in my lungs subsided as I scanned the bright dots marking the heavens. I dropped my gaze earthward as Brianne sank to the ground at our feet, soiling her dress as she gasped for air.
The moon was lower now, and I could still make out the gleam of lights from the cabin over the last ridge. We were too close. We needed to travel faster.
“Brianne, get up. We have to move.”
“I can’t.” She wiped her runny nose with my glove. “I can’t go any further.”
“You have to.”
“I don’t. It doesn’t matter. They’re going to catch me. They’ll catch all of us.” She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “There’s no way out.”
I knelt. “Brianne, if you just sit here and don’t move, you could die of hypothermia before they even find you.”
She dropped her gaze to her knees. “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.” I pulled up my sleeve and showed her my scars. “Yes. It would. Trust me. Now get the fuck up and let’s go.”
Gavin offered his hand, and Brianne took it. We were on our way again, moving down into the next valley, skidding on leaves and climbing over fallen trees. Once at the bottom, we decided to cut even farther sideways instead of continuing straight up the next ridge.
The moon lowered, its disappearance heralding the coming dawn.
“What’s that?” Gavin stopped ahead of me.
I came to stand beside him. “What?”
“You see that light?” He pointed ahead.
Something glimmered between the trees, maybe fifty yards ahead. “Yeah. What is it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go. Maybe it’s help.” He took off faster, his steps becoming less careful at the promise of salvation.
“No, Gavin, wait.” Foreboding took hold inside me, and I struggled to catch up with him. “Don’t.”
“Stella!” Brianne fell to her hands and knees behind me. “I can’t feel my feet. I-I can’t walk.”
“Shit.” I dashed back to her, my feet sliding over the leaves and stones. I gripped under her arms and pulled her upright.
“Gavin, don’t!” The frigid air swallowed up my voice. I could barely see him through the trees now, but I spied the light. It infused me with dread.
I slung Brianne’s arm over my shoulder and half-dragged her.
Gavin’s scream sliced through the air, through my mind.
Brianne stiffened at my side. “What happened? What was that?”
He screamed again, agonized and frantic.
“I don’t know. But you have to keep walking.” I dropped her arm and scrambled over a boulder before taking off toward the light and Gavin’s screams.
“Stella.” Brianne’s voice cracked behind me, but I couldn’t stop. Gavin’s cries compelled me forward. I tripped as my muscles burned and my lungs struggled to pull in enough air, but I kept moving.
The light grew brighter as I lurched from tree to tree, trying to get a look at what it was.
Gavin’s screams subsided into a gasping “Stella” that he repeated until my heart was shredded.
I slowed and crept closer. The light appeared to be a gas lantern hung in a tree. Beneath it dangled a bulbous net bag of clothing—knit hats, jackets, gloves—all warm and welcoming. Gavin lay beneath the bag in a shallow, concealed pit, a narrow bamboo shoot piercing his calf.