Page 100 of What Remains

"I don't think we could fit a candy bar in there if we tried."

Cara shut the tailgate with both hands, letting the latch click home before answering. "I'll consider that a successful day."

Josie cinched one final ratchet strap over a stack of storage totes, giving it a firm, satisfied tug to test the tension. "I don't think Liz's pantry is going to know what hit it."

"It better not," Jay said with a laugh, "because I plan on eating my weight in canned peaches when we get back."

The laughter came easier now, unforced in a way it hadn't managed in days. For the first time since leaving the ranch, they'd accomplished exactly what they'd set out to do. No one had been hurt. No one had fired a shot. If Seth believed in luck, he might have called it that. But he believed in preparation, and so he stood apart from the celebration, sweeping the horizon one last time while the others admired the haul.

Cade noticed. "You done ?"

Seth glanced over. "Yeah?”

The younger Marine adjusted the rifle slung across his shoulder. His gaze drifted west, and Seth watched Cade's jaw tighten, a debate settling in his eyes. "This is where I leave."

The words came quietly, matter-of-fact, but they landed with enough weight to turn every head toward him.

Jay frowned. "You sure?"

Cade nodded slowly, his eyes settling on the snow-covered mountains rising beyond Lakewood. "The farther I go with you, the farther away I get from Alaska."

A heavy, reluctant silence fell over the group. They had all known this moment would come, but a sudden stillness settled upon them all the same.

Josie moved first. Reaching into one of the medical bags she'd packed that morning, she drew out a small waterproof pouch. Inside were neatly labeled bottles of antibiotics and pain medication, bandages, sutures, gauze, and a compact trauma kit. She held it out to him without hesitation.

"Take these."

Cade looked down at the pouch, his jaw tightening. "I can't. You'll need them."

"So will you." Josie kept her arm extended, her smile gentle but immovable. "Then promise me neither of us has to use them."

A corner of Cade's mouth lifted despite himself. "I'll do my best." He accepted the pouch and tucked it carefully into his pack, his hand resting on it a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Jay disappeared into the Suburban and emerged with an old road atlas, its pages worn soft and stained from months of hard use. He spread it across the hood and flipped through until he found the right page, then uncapped a black marker.

"This isn't for now," he said as Cade stepped beside him. "Our cabin doesn't exist." He circled a tiny town several miles from Cara's property, then drew a bold X just outside its limits—marking nothing that mattered. "If you ever need a place to land, come here."

Cade studied the map, committing it to memory. "Someone will find me?"

“Yeah we will find you. Don't wander around the woods searching for us. Find the town, and wait. We'll come to you."

Seth ripped the page out and folded the map and pressed it into Cade's hands. "One condition."

Cade raised an eyebrow.

"Don't make me choose between you and everything else I've built here."

A faint smirk crossed the younger man's face. “Deal.”

Jay laughed. "I figured you'd appreciate that rule."

Cade slid the map into the same pocket as Josie's medical kit, then let his eyes drift across each of them in turn—Cara, Jay, Josie, and finally Seth. When he spoke again, his voice carried something rawer beneath its steadiness.

"I haven't exactly had people to come back to in a while."

The admission hung in the cold air, and the silence stretched until Seth stepped forward. He extended his hand. Cade looked at it for only a second before taking it, and their handshake was firm and brief, an entire conversation in a single gesture.