Chapter 28
Wyatt, Kori, and Thunder had the direct line to the heat signature.
They’d started on the same trail as yesterday, but Wyatt had explained they’d need to break off after the first mile and a half. The good news was that some of the snow had melted. The bad news was everything underneath had turned to mud—slick, unstable, and just as dangerous.
Wyatt didn’t like coming out here with just the three of them.
Not after the slashed tires.
Not after the tracks running parallel to theirs.
Not after the body.
But the heat signature had been steady. Not moving. That changed things.
“Any other updates from Micah this morning?” Kori asked as they followed Thunder. “About Pete?”
“Unfortunately, no. But he’s working every angle.”
Kori nodded, her jaw tight. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Thunder checked back, then pushed forward again.
Wyatt scanned the trees to the left.
Nothing moved.
But the silence felt wrong. Too complete. Like the forest was holding its breath.
He didn’t say that.
No need to put that in Kori’s head.
Garrett’s voice crackled softly through Wyatt’s radio. “You’re closing in. About a quarter mile north.”
“Copy that,” Wyatt murmured.
They moved off Lost Hollow.
The trail disappeared almost immediately, swallowed by undergrowth and snow. The canopy thickened overhead, filtering the light into a dull gray.
Each step took effort now. Snow to mid-thigh in places. Mud underneath.
Wyatt broke trail, setting the pace. Thunder worked ahead in tight, controlled movements—no longer ranging wide.
That told Wyatt they were close.
“Stay behind me,” Wyatt murmured.
Kori didn’t argue.
Garrett’s voice again. “You’re within a hundred yards.”
Wyatt slowed.
Thunder did the same.
Then the dog stopped.
His nose lifted. He sniffed once. Twice. Then took two careful steps forward and froze.
Wyatt raised his fist.
They went still.
Wyatt’s focus narrowed.
There . . . at the base of a rock formation just ahead.
There was a shape partially buried in snow.
He scanned the area around him.
There was no movement or additional tracks.
Thunder stood alert but not bristling or signaling immediate threat.
Wyatt stepped forward, each movement deliberate.
The shape resolved.
It was a person.
Wyatt’s pulse kicked up, but his voice stayed controlled. “Kori, hang back.”
Behind him, her breathing shifted, becoming sharper, faster.
He took another step, eyes never leaving the figure.
Alive or dead.
He needed to know.
Kori saw the shape against the rock, and her heart stopped.
Dark jacket. Brown hair. Small frame curled against the granite as if the person was trying to disappear into it.
That was Mackenzie. It had to be!
Seven days. Seven days in this forest, injured maybe, cold definitely, alone obviously.
Her sister was thirty feet away and alive.
Something broke inside her.
Kori began moving before the thought had fully formed.
Until Wyatt’s arm came up in front of her like a gate.
“Wait,” he muttered.
“But . . .” Kori didn’t want to wait. Every cell in her body wanted to run toward the woman.
Why shouldn’t she?
The woman was on her feet before Kori had fully registered she was even moving.
Her arm jutted out, a knife gripped in her hand.
Her eyes looked wild as she swept the blade in a wide arc.
“Stay back.” Her voice sounded raw. “Stay back. Stay back. Stay back!”
This woman wasn’t Mackenzie.
The realization felt like a slap.
Not only had they not found Mackenzie, but if they weren’t careful, this woman could seriously hurt them.