“Whatever,” Oscar said, sick of talking about it. “While we’re stopped, though, should we figure out where we’re going? We seem to be veering right again. When should we start to cut across?”

They all looked around to get their bearings. They couldn’t see the big range anymore, since it was hidden behind the ridge, but from where they stood, it would now be to the left.

“The sun’s rising from that way,” Gwen noted, pointing back up to the top of the ridge.

“If that’s east,” Todd said, “then that’s where we should go.”

They were only about a hundred vertical feet from the top, and the slope did not look steep.

“I think we can just head up this way,” Oscar said, “instead of backtracking to where the trail left the top.”

“All right, let’s go,” Tracy said. She stepped off the trail, and the others all followed. They fanned out and climbed up in a parallel line. Even though the slope was gentle, the ground wasn’t solid; the small pebbles and dirt gave way beneath their feet, and the others used their poles to steady themselves. With each step forward Oscar lost half a step; the effect was like going up a down escalator. The dog ran up the slope in short energetic bursts; she reached the top quickly and then came back down again, sliding, dislodging rocks and dirt, but excited, encouraging them forward. Once, twice, Oscar slipped and reached out with one hand to stabilize himself. The rocks felt cool to his touch.

It took about ten minutes to reach the top, and when he did, Tracy and Todd were already there. Gwen arrived a couple of minutes after Oscar, and they all bent over, catching their breath, while the dog weaved through them, jumping up to give them whiskery kisses.

“That was harder than it looked,” Gwen said.

“Everything has been hard out here,” Oscar replied. Then he looked up. The big range they’d seen earlier was straight in front of them now. The sun was just coming over it, sharpening its lines against the sky. In the growing light they could see a valley, a big, winding chute they’d have to make their way through, with broad green meadows and still blue lakes, and stretches of woods between them. The jagged peaks to the east cast long shadows across the landscape and sent concentrated rays of light toward the ground. All of this was framed by more peaks on either side of the valley, which Oscar saw, as the sky lightened, were capped with snow. The sight was breathtaking. And even as he knew they had to get through the valley and over the mountains, his heart rose in his chest. This was the High Sierra, rugged and pristine. This was really something.

“Wow,” Gwen said.

“Wow is right,” Oscar said. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere in the wilderness,” Tracy said. “Exactly where, I don’t know.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of land to get across,” Todd said. “How far did you say it was, Tracy?”

“Well, we just need to get through the valley and over that range. We should be able to do it in a day.”

“You might be able to,” said Gwen. “Tracy, that’s really far. And I don’t know about you guys, but I’m exhausted.”

“All right, maybe a day and a half, maybe two,” Tracy allowed. “But that’s it, that range is what we have to cross. And the Owens Valley is right on the other side.”

“You make it sound easy,” Oscar said. “But those peaks are pretty big. And there’s snow.”

“I’m telling you guys, we can get over them. There are a bunch of passes, and it shouldn’t be hard to find a way across.”

Todd was holding his poles in one hand, resting the rifle on the ground with the other. Oscar turned to him now, putting aside his annoyance because Todd’s evenness, his calm, gave him comfort. “What do you think, Todd?”

He was quiet for a moment before he answered. “I’ve been trying to pick out a route. One that also provides some cover. I think we head down this way.” Todd pointed toward the left. “Hug the canyon wall and get down to those woods. Once we’re in them, no one can see us. We can hike through those and then toward that meadow, where there are some boulders to hide behind if we need to. There are a couple of lakes for water, which is good. And once we get down, we’ll have a better sense of what route to take over that range. It seems like there’s a bit of a saddle there, between those peaks to the left. That actually looks pretty passable, and there’s not much snow. Provided we can find a way up to it.”

This sounded good to Oscar—thought out and logical. Gwen turned to Tracy and asked, “What do you think?”

“It’s as good a plan as any,” she answered, shrugging.

“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” Oscar said. He hoped that Tracy wouldn’t try to argue, and she didn’t. They all looked at each other, as if psyching each other up.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Todd said. And then he slung the rifle back over his shoulder and put his hands through the straps of his poles.

Oscar watched him go over the edge. Then, with a deep breath and quick silent prayer, he took his first step onto uncharted earth.

Chapter Twelve

Todd

They sidestepped down the slope, carefully at first, but then with bigger strides, using the natural steps formed by the slabs of rock. Above them the sky had turned a silvery blue. The peaks on either side of the valley were lit with brilliant light. Even in his state of exhaustion and worry, Todd couldn’t help but notice the beauty.

It took more than an hour to reach the first stand of trees, and once they were safely under its cover, they stopped and put down their packs. After carefully leaning the rifle against a boulder, Todd took off his shoes and shook out some pebbles. His toes looked and felt like they’d been pounded by a meat cleaver. His calf stung where he’d been scratched by a branch. Gwen sat down against a tree, crossed her arms on her knees, and rested her head against them. The dog came over and licked her hand and Gwen petted her without glancing up.

Tracy, still standing, tilted her head back and finished off what was left in her Nalgene bottle. “We’re going to need water.”

“Yeah, I’m almost out too,” Oscar said.

“There’s a couple of lakes farther on,” Todd said. “We can refill there. Or maybe we’ll cross a stream before then.”

“Let’s stay here for a minute.” This was from Gwen, who still hadn’t lifted her head.

They all looked at her. “We need to keep moving,” Todd said.

“I need to rest, you guys.” And now she looked up. The early-morning light revealed how tired she was—deep hollows had formed beneath her eyes, her skin looked gray, and wisps of hair had come loose from her ponytail. “We haven’t slept since the night before last, and haven’t had a meal since lunchtime yesterday. I’m exhausted, and I need to eat.”

Todd leaned toward her. Of all of them, she was the least suited for this trip to begin with, let alone for what they had to do now. And she’d seemed even more shaken than the rest of them by their encounters with José and A.J. But he couldn’t let himself think about that now. They had many miles to go, a formidable range to cross. He wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to make it. “Gwen, look, we’re all tired. But we can’t stop yet. We may have someone behind us, we may have two guys behind us. And we need to open up some distance between us and them. If we wait, we’ll be an easy target for someone with a high-powered rifle. But if we get going, we’ll have a better chance. Once we get farther into the valley, we can stop for a rest.”

Gwen did not acknowledge his words; she stared straight ahead as if no one had spoken.