“I saw a bunny, I was trying to follow it, and got lost. But I found this hidey hole and was making a fire, Dad,” Michael said, his voice small and raspy from the cold. “Like you showed me in the book. But the sparks wouldn’t stay.” The relief that flooded through Mathew was so violent it almost knocked him off his feet. He lunged forward, grabbing the boy and pulling him into a crushing embrace.
Michael was ice-cold to the touch, but he was alert. Mathew quickly stripped off his own heavy outer parka and wrapped it around the boy, creating a warm cocoon. He keyed his radio, his hands shaking so much he could barely press the button. “I have him! I have Mike! He’s alive! We’re at the top of the Black Slate path!”