Heads down, blinking away rainwater, they followed. Progress was exhausting. They’d been in the storm for all of five minutes and already Elizaveta felt waterlogged, each step an effort.

She focused on the ground, where she stepped. In the dark everything was layered in shades of gray, browns, and blacks, and it was hard to see hazards such as fallen branches. The rain churned the dirt, making it thick and slippery.

She almost bumped into the back of Jack when he stopped to hike Rosa into his arms. The girl’s face poked over his shoulder, her skin glistening wetly, her black eyes wide and haunted. Nevertheless, she smiled at Elizaveta. Elizaveta wanted to reach out, touch her, reassure her. The poor thing had just lost her brother. She’d been adopted by a band of strangers, and now she was slogging through what felt like the end of the world.

Elizaveta raised her hand, but Jack was moving again. Rosa squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against his neck.

The odd couple. That’s what came to Elizaveta’s mind. Jack didn’t like children. He often said as much, and when Elizaveta saw him around kids, he was stiff and awkward, and he usually did his best to ignore them altogether. So why had Rosa taken such a liking to him? Because he was the first person she had contact with after Miguel’s death? Because he reminded her of her brother in some way?

A peal of thunder rumbled across the turbulent sky, drawing near. A particularly nasty gust of wind whooshed through the trees, icing her blood.

A loud crack sounded.

Elizaveta snapped her head up and saw a large branch strike the ground next to Nitro. He spun toward it, cursing. The branch was massive, the length of a car and sporting several smaller boughs sprouting spiraling needles. It hadn’t missed him by much.

They all looked up. The branch had fallen ten or fifteen meters; Elizaveta could see the where it had broken away from the trunk. If it had struck Nitro, it likely would have killed him.

“We have to go back!” Pita shouted above the weather.

“How much farther is the cabin, chavo?” Nitro asked Jack, shielding his eyes from the lashing rain with his hand.

Jack bumped Rosa higher up his chest. “It’s not far!”

“You better not be lost!”

“I’m not lost!”

“We have to go back!” Pita repeated. She was scanning the blowing canopy, as if expecting another branch to fall.

“Maybe we should…” Elizaveta said before the wind drowned out the rest of her words.

“It’s not far!” Jack insisted, and marched on.

7