Page 333 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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97

Havoc

We don’t go back.

Not to the Tavern.

Not to town.

Not to anything that looks like normal.

We push forward.

Because stopping?

Means they disappear.

And I don’t let that happen.

The first night—

We track them through the trees.

Boot prints.

Broken branches.

Signs of movement most people wouldn’t see.

But we’re not most people.

“They split,” Briggs says quietly.

I nod.

“Yeah.”

Smart.

Divide.

Disappear.

Regroup somewhere else.

But they made one mistake.

They didn’t have time to cover their tracks.

“They’re not running clean,” I say.

“No,” Briggs agrees. “They’re rushed.”

Good.

That means pressure.

That means we hit them where it hurts.

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