The jungle closed tighter the deeper I walked. Not in some poetic, metaphorical way—it literally narrowed. Vines looped between tree trunks like snare wires. The canopy above shifted from gaps of moonlight to solid blackout curtains, each step muffling the world more than the last.
I gripped the strap across my chest. The satchel Evelyn had packed was light, but it pressed against my ribs like it had weight enough to split them. The pain was constant now. Background radiation. Not debilitating, but enough to remind me of everything I didn't have—strength, speed, skills, a flashlight, functioning lungs, take your pick.
The ribbon Sienna had tied to my arm fluttered faintly as I moved.
Stay tethered, it whispered. Come back.
But my mind was ahead of me. Two hours ahead. Four. A voice saying "We'll be back by then," and a trail gone quiet.
