Dawn did not bring light. It brought a thick, grey mist that clung to the gorge like a ghostly shroud. The snow had stopped, but the cold had deepened, biting through the canvas tarp and into Elena's bones.
She had not slept. She had spent the night feeding the fire and watching Caleb drift in and out of consciousness. Every time his breathing hitched or slowed, she was on her knees beside him, her hand on his chest, ready to pull him back from the edge.
Now, as the grey light filtered into the mine shaft, she knew it was time to move.
"Caleb," she said softly, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."
He groaned, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, confusion clouded his gaze, then clarity returned. He looked at her, then at the fire, then at the dark mouth of the tunnel that led deeper int
