The steep trail rose sharply past the gate. It wound around jagged black granite ledges toward the southern turnpike. Stinging ice dust whistled through the narrow pass. It whipped Asher’s dark coat against his legs as he maintained a hard pace up the frozen ridge. Behind him, Kaelen carried the boy. The child’s thin face was buried deep in the heavy wool blanket to block out the freezing air. “How far is the turnpike shelter?” Kaelen panted. His heavy boots crunched into the frozen drift. “The wind is getting worse.” “It is two miles up the gap,” Camila said. Her rifle was held low across her stomach as she kept her gaze fixed on the snowy cliffs above. “If the storm hits before we reach the cabin, we will freeze on this ledge.” “Vance will not follow us up this trail on foot,” Kaelen said. He wiped frost from his eyelashes. “He needs his trucks.” “He does not need trucks if he has radios,” Asher said. He paused to scan the white ridge line ahead. “He can call the southern

The storm howled through the narrow gap. It drove stinging ice crystals sideways against the sheer rock face. Asher led the group out the back door of the cabin. He followed the thick steel wire that stretched into the swirling white fog above the gorge. “I cannot see the other side!” Kaelen shouted over the roar of the wind. He pulled the boy tight against his chest to shield the child’s face from the freezing ice dust. “Are you sure this wire holds?” “The wire is intact,” Camila called back. Her boot soles gripped the slippery granite ledge as she adjusted her rifle strap. “Look ahead. The timber housing is right on the edge.” Fifty yards out, the wooden skeleton of the cable station emerged from the whiteout. It sat balanced on the cliff lip. It was anchored by rusted iron bolts driven straight into the mountain rock. A boxy metal cage hung motionless from a heavy overhead pulley system. It swayed gently over the black drop. “Is anyone inside?” Kaelen asked. His breath mi

The cable car slammed onto the lower platform with a deafening metallic screech. Wooden deck boards groaned under the heavy impact. They threw up a spray of loose ice and rotten splinters as the cage ground to a complete halt against the iron stopper posts. Asher hit the door latch with his heel. He forced the jammed steel gate open with a loud groan. “Out, now!” Asher ordered. He stepped onto the snow covered platform with his revolver raised. Camila leaped out right behind him. Her boots slid slightly on the wet timber as she scanned the surrounding trees with her empty rifle ready. Kaelen followed last. He held the boy tight against his chest as he cleared the swinging iron frame. “Is the path clear?” Kaelen panted. His heavy boots crunched into the soft powder beside the ruined station cabin. “No tracks in the drift,” Camila said. She crouched beside a stack of rotted pine logs. “Nobody has been down here since the last snowfall.” “Which way into the timber?” Kaelen

The roar of the exploding fuel depot still rumbled down the canyon as Asher pushed through the thick birch scrub along the riverbank. Smoke drifted overhead in heavy black ribbons. It blotted out the late afternoon sun and turned the cold air thick with the stench of scorched rubber and diesel. “Keep your head low, kid,” Kaelen muttered. He pulled the boy’s hood down over his face as they ducked beneath a low pine branch. “The river rocks are slick.” “Is the fire following us?” the boy asked. His voice shook against Kaelen’s shoulder. “The water stops the flames,” Kaelen said. He stepped over a patch of black mud. “We are heading for the narrow bridge.” Camila dropped into a low crouch near a cluster of jagged boulders at the river bend. She kept her rifle resting across her forearm. “Asher, hold up. Look at the cables.” Asher stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes scanned the footbridge fifty yards ahead. Two thick steel ropes stretched across the churning white water. They suppo

Asher slammed the heavy gear shift forward. The stolen transport rocketed past a rusted road marker reading five miles to the central depot. The big engine roared. It shook the dented metal frame as it tore down the wide dirt highway toward the southern basin. In the passenger seat, Camila wedged the newly found ammunition crate between her knees. She snapped the iron latches open to inspect the brass cartridges. “Sixty rounds of rifle lead,” Camila said. She held up a full magazine box with a sharp grin. “And two boxes of heavy slugs for your revolver, Asher.” “Load the rifle,” Asher said. He kept his eyes glued to the dust-choked road ahead where the trees began to thin out. “We are going to need every bullet before this night is over.” “How is the boy holding up?” Camila asked. She glanced back over the worn leather seat. Kaelen wiped a streak of road grime from Michael’s forehead. He rested his hand gently against the child’s shoulder. “He is breathing fine, but his boot