“At this hour? Who’s out hiking now?”

“The same people who put that phone in your bag. I’m sure they found the cabin. They could be on the trail as we speak. We need to get across that river and beyond the hill. End of discussion!”

Reed shook his head as if disgusted. He walked to his backpack, unzipped the pouch, and pulled the handgun out.

“What are you doing?” Spud’s chest went hollow, and he instinctively reached for the knife in his pocket, his gloved fingers too thick and too frozen to grab it.

Reed reached into his pack again and pulled out a pair of binoculars. “I’m gonna backtrack to the last ridge,” Reed said. “Look for any lights or signs that someone’s following us.”

Spud slid his fingers out of his pocket. Had Reed seen him reach for his knife? He didn’t act like he had. Reed walked down the trail, backtracking, disappearing into the darkness.

Pip sat on the ground and leaned against Spud’s backpack, his little arms wrapped around his knees. Spud walked over, lay down on the ground beside him, and stretched out his knotted back, the sharp pain stopping his breath. He did his best to hide his misery, and when he was able to breathe again, he said, “How you holding up, little man?”

“I’m hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Pip didn’t answer.

Spud sidled over to Reed’s pack and dug his hand through one of the outside pouches until he felt the slick wrapper of an energy bar. He slipped it out and scooted back to Pip.

“Here,” Spud said, opening the wrapper an inch. “Eat this.”

“Daddy will be mad.”

“We won’t tell him, okay?” Spud handed the bar to Pip, but Pip seemed reluctant. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go stand by the trail. If your dad comes back I’ll tell you.”

Pip nodded his agreement. So Spud walked back and listened. Behind him the crackle of the wrapper told him that Pip was eating.

An icy breeze crawled up the rocky slope and felt its way along the ground to where Spud stood. It wrapped around his exposed neck and ears. It seeped into his joints and muscles. He walked back to Pip and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Pip was shivering.

“You cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

Spud sat on the backpack and lifted Pip onto his lap, wrapped his large arms around him, and rocked back and forth. They were quiet for a while, but then Pip whispered, “Spud?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared. The animals are more afraid of you than you are of them. They’ll stay far away from us.”

“No… I’m not afraid of the animals.”

Pip was afraid of his own father. To that, Spud could find no comforting words to offer. He would not lie to Pip and put him off his guard. He needed to be wary. Finally, he said, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”