They climbed the rest of the way and stood at the top of the hill, their legs and hands covered in mud and moss. The trees were dense here, the undergrowth thick, and with only the starlight, they weren’t able to see down the other side.

“Where do you want to go?” Elliot said.

“Where?”

“Pick a direction. You found the town from the car. Maybe you’re lucky.”

She laughed. “Lucky,” she said.

“No, I mean it,” Elliot said. “Pick a direction.”

Evajean shrugged. “Down. We’ll go down to the bottom of the hill and see if we can see anything. Really, though, we might have to wait until morning.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said, “we might.” And he started down the hill, glad to be putting its bulk between them and the cave. This way was easier. There were trees to grab onto as they quickly slid down and the slope didn’t feel as steep. Evajean’s suggested “down” turned out to be carry its own level of luck, because the ground leveled out into a hard path, like the one Elliot had followed before finding the symbols on the trees. It wasn’t quite as wide and lacked the deep wheel marks, but had clearly seen a lot of use.

“Yeah,” Evajean said, “I think next we’re going to follow this. And we should follow it that way.” She pointed and Elliot figured it didn’t matter, since he didn’t know where north was or the road or anything else they might want to eventually arrive at. They walked, enjoying the relative feeling of comfort and safety.

“How are you feeling?” Elliot asked after they gone a quarter of a mile.

“Better. Drinking that water helped. As long as it didn’t have stuff in it. They always say you’re not supposed to drink from lakes and things.”

“It’s safe, I’m sure. Safer than not drinking, anyway. I’m glad it helped.”

“Where do you think this goes?”

“No idea,” he said. “The last one I was on connected up to the road. Maybe this one does, too.”

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“And Hope, too,” Evajean said.

“The dog?”

“We could still find him. He might hear us. Dogs hear really well and these woods are quiet.”

“Too quiet?” Elliot said, smiling.

“Knock it off,” she said and punched softly on the shoulder.

“I’ll keep my ears open,” Elliot said. “In case the dog is out there.”

“Thank you.”

But he didn’t hear anything, not as the track went up over a shallow hill and then took a wide curve to the right. He did, however, smell something: a smoky weight in the air like faint burning leaves. He didn’t remember hearing about fires in the mountains, not on the local news in Charlottesville, but it was fall. The trees had dropped their dried leaves and all it took was a spark. Evajean smelled it too. “That’s nice,” she said. “I’ve always liked that smell.” And then they both returned to their habit of quiet.

Elliot was about to strike up another round of small talk to ward off the pressing darkness when he saw a glow through the trees in front of them.

“What is that?” he said.

“I don’t know.” Evajean started running ahead and Elliot called out to her, telling her to slow down. She didn’t, though, and he jogged to catch up. The path had been sloping gradually up for a little while and suddenly the hill crested. They both stopped, staring.

Below them, the town of Nahom burned.

Three houses were on fire and Elliot could see their little cottage was among them. But those were small blazes, only corners lit or patches of roofs in flames. The bulk of the light came from the church. Fire engulfed the building so completely that Elliot could only see its dark silhouette through the orange and yellow. The area around the church was empty. None of Nahom’s citizens had made it out–though they might have escaped into the deeper caves. More encouraging, for him and Evajean, there weren’t any crazies, either. The town was empty and, except for the fire, quiet.

“Jesus,” Evajean said. Then, “The dog! Hope, he’s down there, still in the house.” And she ran down the hill, Elliot again following and again calling out to her to wait and think about what she was doing. The results were the same.

As he approached the bottom, the heat from the church became uncomfortable. Evajean was still ahead of him, running to the house. He caught up with her as she was pulling open the gate. “Wait!” he said, “We have to be careful.”

“Hope’s in there,” she said and then was down the short path and at the front door. Elliot looked around, desperately trying to catch any sign of crazies or citizens. They’d made their escape once and the chances of being able to pull it off again were negligible.

The fire was spreading. More of the buildings smoldered now and the smoke from the church had turned thick and black. Still there were no shouts, no signs of life. Where had they all gone? He could understand the absence of townsfolk: they were still trapped under the church or in the caves. But the crazies had swarmed in fantastic number, had surrounded the church and, it had sounded like earlier, broken inside. Not all of them could have fit, could they? Had they burned? That his and Evajean’s primary threat in escaping the woods was gone seemed too much to hope for. No, the crazies must have fled back into the mountains when the fire started–and were waiting there now, perhaps even watching the two of them from the cover of the trees.

He started to call her name again but stopped when he heard the sharp bark. She was standing in the doorway, Hope kicking in her arms. “Help me, Elliot,” she shouted. “He won’t settle down.” He came over, took off his jacket, and wrapped the animal tightly.

“There,” he said, “that’ll keep it from jumping out, at least until we get away from all this.”