Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Stay close,” I tell Eli, grateful for his steady presence at my back. Of all the crew, he’s the only one who truly understands me, as well as what we might be up against.
We sweep the area methodically, calling Hank’s name, our voices lost in the howling wind. The storm erases all signs of passage, making tracking impossible. If Hank came this way, the evidence is long gone.
Ten minutes into the search, Eli catches my arm, pointing to the ground ahead. At first, I see nothing but unbroken snow. Then I notice it—a subtle discoloration, dark against the white.
Blood.
I crouch, examining the spot more closely. It’s fresh, not yet fully covered by falling snow. A few feet beyond, another spot, larger this time. And then another.
A trail, leading toward the trees at the edge of the clearing.
Eli meets my gaze, understanding passing between us.
This is bad. Very bad.
We follow the blood trail, weapons ready, senses on high alert. The drops become larger, more frequent as we near the tree line. Then, abruptly, they change character—no longer distinct drops but long smears.
Drag marks.
Something pulled a bleeding body into those trees.
“Jensen.” Eli’s voice is tight with tension. “We should go back. Get the others.”
I know he’s right—whatever left these marks is dangerous, possibly still nearby—but the thought of Hank out there, wounded, perhaps dying, drives me forward. I left him behind in the tunnels. I won’t leave him behind again.
“Five more minutes,” I say. “Just to the tree line. See if there’s any sign of him.”
Eli hesitates, then nods reluctantly. We press on, following the gruesome trail to the forest’s edge. The trees loom like sentinels under our flashlights, snow-laden branches creating deep pools of shadow. Perfect hiding places for things that hunt in the dark.
The drag marks lead directly into the trees, where they’re quickly lost in the underbrush and gathering snow. I scan the trunks, searching for any sign of movement, any indication of what might have taken Hank.
Nothing moves in the darkness, but the sensation of being watched intensifies. It’s the same feeling I had at Cedar Creek—eyes tracking our every move, assessing, calculating.
“We need to go,” Eli says with quiet urgency. “Now, Jensen.”
This time, I don’t argue. We retreat from the tree line, moving at a measured pace despite the instinct to run. Running triggers the predator response. I learned that lesson the hard way.
Back at the cabin, Cole and Red have already returned, their search equally fruitless. Aubrey watches from the doorway, hope fading from her expression as she sees us return without Hank.
“Nothing?” she asks.
I hesitate, glancing at Eli. “Blood. Drag marks. Leading into the trees.”
Cole’s face pales. “Christ Almighty. What the hell did that?”
“Bear, maybe wolves,” Red suggests, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “Or mountain lion. Same one that stalked Aubrey, could be.”
“No bear or mountain lion makes tracks like that,” Eli says quietly. “Not in the way they drag. They’re messy. Not that precise.”
As precise as that chopped up carcass from earlier.
A heavy silence falls over the group as the implications sink in.
“We could call for help,” Aubrey says. “Maybe we can get a signal.”
“Half our phones are dead and dying,” I tell her. “Unless you’re in the exact right spot and luck is on your side, you’re not getting a signal out here. And forget that SOS button too, these mountains don’t get along with the satellites.”
“So what are you saying?” Cole asks, voice rising with tension. “That someone took him? Like, a person? Who else is up here in this weather?”
Eli and I exchange another look. I know what he’s thinking—that we need to tell them all the truth, or at least part of it. But I’m not sure they’re ready to hear it.
Not sure they’ll believe it.
Especially Aubrey.
“I think whatever’s out there,” I say carefully, “isn’t something we’re equipped to handle. Not in these conditions, not in the dark.”
“So we just abandon him?” Aubrey asks, incredulous. “Leave him out there to die?”
“If he’s not dead already,” Red mutters.
I shoot him a glare. “First light, we’ll organize a proper search. Follow the trail, see where it leads. But right now, going out there blind is suicide.”
“Jensen’s right,” Eli adds. “Whatever took Hank is still out there. Likely watching the cabin. Waiting for another opportunity.”
“This is insane,” Cole says, pacing the small confines of the cabin. “We need to get out of here. Head back to the ranch at first light. This whole trip has been cursed from the start.”
He has no idea how right he is.
“We’re not leaving without knowing what happened to Hank,” I say firmly.
“The hell we aren’t,” Red counters. “I’m not ending up like him, dragged off into the woods by some…whatever the hell it is.”
The argument escalates, tension that’s been building since Cedar Creek finally erupting. Cole sides with Red, insisting we abandon the search and head back to safety. Eli stands with me, arguing for a measured approach. Only Aubrey remains silent, her eyes moving between us, calculating.