Max stepped lightly as he neared the opening to the camp. He listened for the crunch of leaves underfoot, but heard only silence. He walked out onto the stone cap of the hill, the far edge lined with pine logs to mark the perimeter of the campsite. A small breeze carried the smell of mud and river water up from the ravine. But there was no sign that Reed, or Peter, or Pip had been there.

They separated, circled the camp, and met back together at the precipice.

“If it were me,” Lyle said, “I’d cross here. We’ve been heading north by northwest since the trailhead. But from here the trail turns east and circles back around. Cross here and head that way…” He pointed to the northwest. “And we’ll come to another river that marks the Canadian border. There’re only two places that I know of where you can cross that river. The easiest would be a place called Loon Falls, but if they’re willing to get wet, they could wade through at the rapids a mile or so west of that.”

“The question is, did they pass through here or leave the trail earlier?” Max had spotted a child’s boot print along with two men’s where they cross a beaver dam, but the trail over the last mile or two was rocky enough that he hadn’t seen any prints.

Max turned on his dimmed headlamp and began looking for footprints along the edge of the ravine, circling back to the tree line, while Lyle went back down the path to gather up their packs. Something flickered in Max’s periphery. He aimed his light at the tiny sparkle and saw a wrapper. He picked it up—an energy bar, and it was dry.

Lyle walked back into the campsite with a pack in each hand, and Max called him over. He squatted beside Max. “No rain on it,” Max said. “Someone was here today.”

“It was them. This is where they crossed. I knew it.” Lyle strapped on his backpack and headlamp. “I’m going down.”

Max too heaved his backpack onto his back and followed Lyle. They moved slowly down the side of the ravine, Lyle in the lead, both men holding on to patches of grass to keep from slipping.

“I can’t believe they took a child down this,” Max said.

“Reed has to know the noose is tightening,” Lyle said. “He’ll have no problem risking Pip’s life, if that’s what it takes. He’s a selfish bastard.”

When they got to the bottom, Max stood on the first stone of a natural crossing point, a slippery pine log spanning the rushing river. If the fall didn’t crack his skull, the freezing water would likely drown him. And if that didn’t do him in, there was hypothermia. “Reed took a six-year-old across this?” Max said. “He’s insane.”

“We gotta get to Pip tonight,” Lyle urged.

And with that, Max stepped onto the log. It shifted slightly beneath him, but he held his balance and made it across. Lyle followed.