I sprint into the cave, my pack bouncing hard against my back. I wince. That’ll bruise. The light is dim. But there, lying on his side next to a small fire, is Micah. I dive onto the floor, barely noticing the sting in my hands scraping the surface.

“Micah. Micah!” I cry out. His eyes are shut, without even a flutter of movement. I turn to his dad. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hit on the head. He’s been bleeding pretty badly but was talking until a few minutes ago. Then he went out like a light. Cash heard your voices, and I ran after him.”

“He’s too pale,” I say. I feel around his collar and find a weak pulse. “Thank you, Jesus,” I breathe. “Thank you, Jesus. He’s not dead.”

“I couldn’t move him. He’s too heavy, and I didn’t want to risk him bleeding more. I wasn’t sure—”

“Where’s his phone?” Duke interrupts, already pulling out his own and dialing out.

“I crushed it.”

Duke advances on Micah’s dad, and I stop him with a screech. “Not now! Later! First Micah!” I turn to Micah’s dad. “Where’s he hurt?”

“The back of his head.”

Duke starts explaining in a clear and concise way how to find us. We’re only a quarter mile from the end of the loop, but we’re probably another quarter mile into the woods, and this cave is literally invisible in the dark.

I grab Micah’s pack and rip it open, listing items out loud. “Flares, rations, first aid.” I turn to Micah’s dad. “What the fuck have you been doing? He has a full first aid kit here.”

His dad sinks against the wall of the cave, and I pass the flares to Duke. “Light these. Outside the cave. I’ll see to his head wound.” I turn to his dad again. “How did he hurt the back of his head?”

“I hit him. With a log. I didn’t know who he was.”

I gape at him. “You could have killed him.”

He starts weeping noisily, and I want to throttle him.