THERE’S JUST ENOUGH SNOW HERE that the footprints show up clearly. They’re muddled, some of them—most of them. You’d expect that from a group all following the same trail. But here and there are distinct prints in the snow. Various sizes, but mostly large sizes, boys’ sizes—and they’re all headed in one direction: east.

“We’re still behind them,” Brielle tells Dawn. “So that’s good.”

Dawn stares down at the footprints and knows this gives them a serious advantage. So long as there are prints to follow, they’ll know where the boys are. That means they probably won’t get ambushed, at least if they’re careful.

It’s a good sign, but it’s spooky, too. It’s a clear sign the boys are out here.

Still looking for Dawn and Brielle and Lucas.

Somewhere between here and safety.

Dawn and Brielle follow the footprints.

Well, they follow the ridge and keep the footprints in sight, making sure the prints don’t wander off or deviate or circle back or do anything else unexpected.

The prints lead where Dawn and Brielle are heading, down the ridge as it loses altitude and toward the southeast end where it drops into the forest. It’s more sheltered here, on this end of the ridge; it’s still bare rock and minimal trees and shrubs, but the wind is coming from the west, and so as Dawn and Brielle descend, the ridge forms a natural barrier behind them. It’s warmer, marginally. The snow thins out a little bit.

Dawn thinks about Lucas. She wonders if he’ll be okay, and for a moment she feels guilty that she abandoned him. Feels like maybe she should have stayed with him, left Brielle to save the day.

He’s alone back there, after all. He could have frozen to death in the night, or bled out from the stab wound.

Lucas could be dead, and it would be Dawn’s fault.

Just like her dad.

Right?

Brielle stops walking again. This time, Dawn doesn’t nearly run her over.

But this time, Brielle doesn’t look quite so confident.

She looks back at the trail behind them, then stands on her tiptoes and cranes her neck toward the end of the ridge, a couple of hundred yards away. She frowns and looks around, to the right, where the ridge drops away into a vast, forested valley. And to the left, where it climbs to a stubby summit a few hundred feet above them.

“What?” Dawn asks, the look on Brielle’s face starting to scare her. “What is it?”

Brielle doesn’t answer right away. She gestures to the ground in front of them. Dawn follows her eyes and sees pristine snow, and for a half second, she doesn’t quite get it. Then she does. “The tracks,” she says.