The rain continued to drizzle lightly, soaking our clothes, but we walked on, together in our fragile, exhausted survival.
Slowly, and painfully, we moved together back toward the main road. Jackson limped in silence, his jaw set tight. I could see the strain of pain etched into him with every step, but he never complained.
Jackson's stubbornness was infuriating and admirable; it was the only reason we were still standing.
"Not much longer now," he said with a low grunt, as though he were trying to convince us both. "I think we can find a house."
"What if it's a haunted house, like in the movies?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, my nerves changing into humor.
Jackson let out a soft, amused chuckle. "I got a fork in my pocket that I stole from the wedding. We'll s
