She heard her own voice, then. Distant. Begging.
Becky. Cal. And the child of roots. All found. None leave.
Help. Please, I’m lost.
She found Cal standing perfectly still, facing away. When she touched his shoulder, he turned with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Look,” he said, and pointed down.
Help. Please, I’m lost. Just one step in. What’s the harm?
“No,” Cal said, kicking a bleached rabbit skull. “The circles are walking us.”