George stopped, rubbing his face with trembling hands. He couldn’t panic. Not now. He needed to stay focused, needed to stay sharp. But the exhaustion was dragging him down, dulling his senses, making it harder to think clearly.
He glanced up, squinting at the dark sky through the branches. Was that the same sliver of moon he’d seen earlier? He couldn’t tell. Every direction looked the same, and now that the light was gone, the woods seemed even more endless and unforgiving.