The snow was falling in thick, heavy flakes, blanketing the gorge in a white silence that felt like a burial shroud. Elena knelt in the freezing mud, her teeth chattering so hard her jaw ached. Her wet dress clung to her body like a second skin, stealing every ounce of warmth.
Caleb was unconscious. His face was ashen, his lips tinged with blue. The makeshift splints on his legs were soaked and shifting dangerously. If she didn't get him warm and dry soon, hypothermia would kill him before his injuries ever could.
Elena scanned the tree line. The gorge was narrow, walled in by steep, rocky cliffs. But to the east, she saw a break in the stone. A shadow that didn't belong to the natural rock face.
She grabbed Caleb under the arms and began to drag. It was a Herculean effort. Her muscles
