Chapter Seventy-Eight
The matte-black cargo van tore through the mountain trails like a subterranean creature fleeing the light. There were no headlights to illuminate our path—Bear drove entirely by memory and the dim, pale moonlight that filtered through the thick canopy of pine needles above. Every root, rock, and sudden dip in the logging trail rattled the heavy frame of the vehicle, sending spare wrenches and iron spare parts clattering across the metal floorboards.
Lisa and I sat braced against a pair of heavy motorcycle tires in the dark cargo hold. The smell of hot rubber, motor oil, and raw panic filled the cramped space.
"Hold on back there!" Bear’s voice boomed from the driver's seat, low and steady above the groan of the engine. "It's gonna get rough before we hit the paved
