The flashlight was on the ground where he'd dropped it. She could see the beam — orange now, not the white it had been, the batteries dying, the cone...
At some point the rain started. She couldn't remember when. The sky opened and the water came through the canopy in sheets and she pulled Bree closer...
A scent on the trail. New. The nose drops to the gravel and the compound assembles — human, male, the sweat-salt of a body that has been walking for...