Elias remained pressed into the damp earth, watching the men work with growing dread. He knew he needed to slip away to reach higher ground and find a signal, but the calf—distraught by the sight of the strangers manhandling its mother—was beyond his control. It let out a sharp, piercing squeal that cut through the clearing like a siren, and its small body began to tense for a charge.
Elias knew if the calf ran out now, it would be instantly captured or harmed. He scrambled forward, reaching out to grab the animal’s flank and haul it back into the safety of the brush. He moved as silently as he could, but in his haste, his boot caught on a dry, hollowed-out log. The crack was like a gunshot in the silent clearing.
The calf lunged out of his grasp, but the noise had already done its damage. The leader’s head snapped toward the thicket. He didn’t look at the calf; he looked exactly where Elias was crouched. Elias stood up, knowing he was now fully exposed. The men froze, then turned their cold, predatory stares toward him, their intentions clear. The element of surprise was gone.