Spud wondered why Reed made that slip. Had it been a mistake? Maybe, but it seemed to Spud that a better explanation was that Reed no longer saw a need to keep Spud’s name secret. Spud could think of only one reason why—Reed no longer planned for him to leave the Boundary Waters. Cogs turned in Spud’s head as he walked. If he had been looking for a final justification for what he needed to do, Reed had just handed it to him.

They had marched uphill for what seemed an eternity, the sound of the Devil’s Cascade becoming a distant murmur behind them, the trees thinning as they gained elevation. Spud had lifted Pip into his arms and carried him to the top, his legs burning with every step. His feet were wet—frozen—from walking through the muddy rivulets and sloughs. The pain was almost unbearable. Yet he willed himself to keep moving.

They crested the ridge and headed down the other side. Reed promised they’d set up camp at the bottom, where a creek would supply them with water. The promise of that relief kept Spud moving.

The downhill side was a bit easier. It might have been because he was distracted by thoughts of warmth and comfort, or it might have been because his legs had grown too heavy, but Spud tripped on a rock and went tumbling forward. He tossed Pip to the side to keep from falling on the child and went face-first into a slough of black mud, his knee cracking on a rock, the weight of his pack flattening him in the muck. Freezing water soaked his clothing and covered his face. Pain from his knee shot up the left side of his body. The toe that he had stubbed against the stone screamed to life.

“Goddammit!!” He spit mud from his mouth as he cursed. He tried to roll to his side, but the weight of the pack pinned him to the ground. His hands sank into the mud beneath him as he pushed to get up.

“Daddy, wait,” Pip called out. “Spud fell.”

Reed paused but did not return to help as Spud struggled to turn his body sideways. Alone, he managed to unclip the pack and work it off his back. Then he pulled himself up to his knees, the front of his blue jeans completely soaked, his face blackened with mud. He wanted to scream.

But he didn’t. Instead, he dragged himself out of the morass and knelt down next to Pip. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m okay,” he said.

Spud forced a chuckle. “I gotta watch my step… do like you’re doing.”

He lifted his backpack from the mud and as he heaved it back onto his shoulders, he took note of all of the places on his body that hurt. It might have been simpler to tick off the few places that didn’t. Then he picked Pip up and carried him across the mire and continued his march to the bottom of the hill.