Page 59 of Death Valley

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.”

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