She thinks about restaurants. All of her favorites and how if she ever gets out of here she’s going to visit each and every one of them, one after the other.

McDonald’s.

In-N-Out.

The Cheesecake Factory.

Olive Garden.

P.F. Chang’s.

That little Indian joint down the street from her house that Cam and Wendy order takeout from.

Dawn is going to eat ALL of the things. And when she’s done, she’s going to march into a Dairy Queen and order a delicious Blizzard, a real Blizzard, and eat it and think about this stupid mountain and all the snow, and just be warm and enjoy her ice cream.

This is what Dawn thinks about, fantasizes about, the images she can’t chase from her head as she staggers across frozen rock and snow and feels her stomach gnawing at itself and how her whole body is getting weaker and weaker.

She needs to stop and rest and slow down and sleep and eat and change out of her wet clothes and just be warm and calm and not moving and not afraid for a while.

But none of this is a possibility.

There is only more hiking.

It’s getting dark outside, and Dawn’s hungry.

But there’s nothing on the ridge that can help her.

Chapter 87

IT’S A FEW HOURS AFTER DARK when Dawn starts to suspect they’re lost.

This is never a good feeling to have and it’s especially bad when you’re halfway to freezing to death atop a cloud-laden mountain.

She and Lucas are navigating by flashlight and that’s not a good feeling either, even with the cloud cover, because what if the clouds suddenly shift, just a little, and Brandon and Evan walk across the ridge and see the beams of light and know where they are. But Dawn keeps looking back and she doesn’t see beams behind her, so maybe she’s dumb to be worried about that. The being lost thing, though, is a serious concern.

There doesn’t even seem to be a trail anymore. It’s like Lucas is just following the rocks and staying on top of the ridge and hoping it’ll lead them to where they’re trying to go.

Which is not the worst idea in the world, given the geography and how the trail tended to follow the ridgeline. But still, Dawn can’t shake the feeling that something’s gone wrong, somewhere.

“Hold up,” she tells Lucas. She shines her headlamp around and sees only snow and rock and Lucas, and Lucas looks tired and somehow much thinner than even this morning, as though every step he takes is leeching strength in the form of body mass.

(And he still won’t let her see where Warden’s knife cut him.)

“Are you sure we’re headed the right way?” Dawn asks.