I counted the sunrises by carving rough notches into a stick that I kept inside the bag with our belongings. Six days had already passed.
Immediately after the attack, we moved only enough to find another shelter and hide. I had to recover my strength. We stayed for perhaps a day and a half inside another drainage bridge beneath the tracks, lying against the earth and the insects.
Resuming the journey was pure torture.
We kept moving south the entire time. We navigated by following the rails, the arc of the sun, and the columns of smoke we could see through the branches of the trees, avoiding any cabins that might lie in our path. We made wide detours to avoid towns. Late autumn is a restless and dangerous season for wild creatures. In Montana, hunting season was open for wolves, wild t
