Nobody talks.
The children are too exhausted.
The adults too tense.
Even the wind feels quieter now, like the mountains themselves are listening.
Lucas suddenly raises a fist.
Everybody drops low instantly.
I slide behind a jagged outcropping and peer carefully over the rocks.
Movement catches immediately.
Not scouts this time.
Too many.
Men spread across the valley below in organized lines, weapons visible even from this distance.
Sweeping patterns.
Covering ground.
My stomach sinks hard.
“They brought reinforcements,” I whisper.
Clay shifts beside Lucas. “Search grid.”
Miles mutters a curse under his breath.
Because we all see it now.
The spacing.
The coordination.
The way they’re slowly funneling everything uphill.
“They’re herding us,” I say quietly.
Russ moves beside me.
Close enough that his shoulder brushes mine for half a second.
“Yeah,” he says grimly. “They are.”
Which means the mountain is running out of places to hide us.
Behind me, one of the smaller children lets out a frightened whimper.
I turn immediately and pull her closer against me.
“Hey,” I whisper softly. “Look at me.”
Wide terrified eyes lift to mine.
