Chapter Forty

Beckett

The tracks are fresher now.

We have been moving since before the sun came up. Snow is soft here, not crusted like it was farther down the ridge. Which means we are close. Close enough that my lungs feel too small. Close enough that my hands will not stop shaking. I keep wiping them on my jeans like sweat could freeze off them.

Cor moves ahead of us. He has always been the quiet one when we