“Listen.”

Mara listened carefully, and this time she heard something cracking, knocking branches around. It seemed far away.

“It was farther before,” said Ashley.

“It’s a deer.”

“Or a bear.”

“Probably not. But let’s build up the fire.”

Mara crawled to the edge of the moss, until she felt grass under her palms, and she pulled up a few tufts by the handful. Crawled back and threw them on the fire. The grass was green, but it gave off enough light that she could find more fuel, which cast more light, until they had made the fire big.

Once it was roaring, dancing, Mara felt better. In some ways a big fire was even more comforting than a bed. They listened for the cracking sticks but couldn’t hear them.

“I think it’s gone,” Ashley said.

“Hey!” Mara yelled.

“What are you doing?”

“It could be Bullfrog.”

“At night?” said Ashley. But they yelled together, and listened.

“Did you hear that?” said Ashley.

Mara hadn’t. The hairs went up on her neck. She kept listening.

It was a voice. A small voice, calling back.

They yelled back and forth as he came closer, and finally a figure stumbled into the ring of light. He fell to his knees and the women hugged him, and it was only when Mara’s face felt wet that she realized she was crying. Or maybe they all were. She was almost nauseous with relief. She kept one hand on Bullfrog’s shoulder, and she didn’t want to let go.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d resigned herself to never seeing him again. Or how much she believed that if he vanished, eventually she and Ashley would, too.

In the flickering light, Bullfrog had a black eye and lines of dried blood on his cheeks. When Ashley reached to touch them, he winced. “Just branches,” he said. “It’s nothing. That piece-of-shit flashlight crapped out on me.”

“You came back,” said Mara.

“I’ve been trying to get back for a while now.”

“Do you resent us?” said Mara.

“The fuck is it like in your head?”

“I’m sorry,” said Mara. “For what I said. I was afraid you’d die with that being, you know, the last thing you heard.”

“Don’t.”

“And also, fuck you. We’ve been terrified.”

“I know. I’ve been—”

“Don’t ever pull that shit again.”

“I found something,” he said.

The words were so unexpected that it took Mara a moment to process. But Ashley sucked in a breath. “You found something? People?”

“Not people. I don’t know what it is.”

“What is it?”

“I said I don’t know. I have to show you.”

“So show us,” said Ashley.

“In the daylight. Jesus.”

Bullfrog lay down to sleep, and the sleep must have been real, the way he sank into it, a fatigue so deep that it overcame their excitement. Or maybe his was the exhaustion of relief. Mara couldn’t fall back asleep. She sat up and fed the fire and boiled water until the tops of the trees turned gold. The pool was black, but eventually it turned gold, too. Ashley stirred but didn’t rise. Bullfrog slept into full daylight, which was unusual. The songbirds had long quieted. Then he opened his eyes and sat up.