Page 35 of Silent Trail

As she eased the van around the bend, Sheila couldn't help but dwell on the chilling message they had received from Kyle. He claimed he was going to do "SOMETHING TERRIBLE"—but what? The thought gnawed at her insides like a relentless itch. Was he planning to kill another college girl who had tormented him?

Finn grabbed the radio and spoke into it, urgency lacing his words. "Officer Daniels, do you still have eyes on the vehicle?"

A crackle of static preceded the weary reply. "Negative, Deputy Mercer. I lost sight of him about ten minutes ago. I've been doubling back, but no luck."

Sheila's stomach churned with unease, her heart sinking as she pictured Kyle slipping through their grasp like smoke through fingers. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

"Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly, her pulse quickening. Through the dim glow of the headlights, she noticed fresh tracks scarring the gravel shoulder. It seemed as if something had veered off the road at breakneck speed. She slowed the van, following the trail with her eyes until they settled on a twisted mass of metal wrapped around a tree.

"Over there!" She pointed at the mangled vehicle. "That's got to be him!"

She and Finn exchanged a tense glance before scrambling out of the vehicle. The air was thick with the scent of damp leaves and freshly churned earth. A chorus of crickets and frogs filled the night, their voices melding into an eerie, dissonant song.

"Stay behind me," Finn said, his voice low and cautious as he drew his weapon. Sheila nodded, her eyes scanning the desolate stretch of highway that plunged into darkness beyond the reach of the van's headlights. Tall, shadowy trees loomed over them, their branches outstretched like skeletal fingers. To their right, the ground dropped away sharply, forming the edge of a ravine that seemed to devour the light.

The crashed vehicle before them was barely recognizable, its metal frame twisted and torn. Glass shards littered the ground, glinting like stars against the dark earth. It looked as though it had been crushed in the jaws of some massive beast, so complete was its destruction.

"Kyle!" Finn called out as they approached the wreckage. "Are you in there?"

Sheila peered through the windows of the vehicles, worried what she might find. To her surprise, however, the vehicle was empty. The only sign that Kyle had ever been in there was the pattering of blood on the deflated airbag that covered the steering wheel.

Nosebleed, she thought.

She glanced around, searching for any sign of where Kyle had gone. The surrounding woods, however, offered no answers, only more questions.

"Where is he?" she asked, puzzled.

Finn shook his head grimly, holstering his weapon. "I don't know," he replied, frustration evident in his tone. "But we need to find him before he does something irreversible."

Sheila nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. If Kyle was still out there, desperate and alone, there was no telling what he might do. The weight of their responsibility pressed down on her like a heavy stone, threatening to crush her resolve. But she couldn't – wouldn't – let that happen. They had to find him, and they had to do it now.

As Sheila pondered where Kyle might have gone, she felt an inexplicable pull toward the ravine, as if some unseen force were guiding her. She approached it cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. Peering over the edge, she found herself staring into a void of darkness that seemed to stretch down into eternity, its steep and jagged walls lined with craggy rocks and twisted branches that threatened to snag and tear at anyone foolish enough to venture too close.

"Kyle got lucky," she said softly, turning back to look at the mangled vehicle and the highway beyond. "If that tree hadn't been there, he would've gone right over the edge."

Finn eyed the ravine warily. "You think he could've climbed out of the car after the crash? Maybe he wandered off in a daze and fell in?"

"It's possible," Sheila said, her mind racing as she tried to imagine what might have happened. "He wouldn't be the first one to make a mistake like that, especially if he was disoriented or under the influence. It's equally possible, though, that he went back to the highway and flagged down a ride."

"Let's take a closer look," Finn suggested, pulling a flashlight from his belt and shining it down into the abyss. The beam illuminated the treacherous terrain below, a chaotic jumble of broken rocks, tangled roots, and dense foliage that appeared to swallow any trace of light.

"Look." Sheila pointed, her gaze catching on something in the shadows. "There's a slope leading down. It's steep, but it looks like we could get to the bottom."

Finn frowned, looking uncertain. "You really think he's down there?"

"If someone picked him up, he's long gone by now. This at least gives us a shot at finding him."

Finn worked his jaw back and forth, thinking. At last, he sighed and nodded. "Alright," he said. "But be careful—there's no need getting ourselves killed just to find his body."

They began the descent down the steep slope. Loose rocks and dirt shifted beneath their feet, testing their balance and resolve. The air grew colder, dampening their skin as beads of sweat formed on their brows.

"Kyle!" Sheila called, her voice strained from the effort of keeping herself upright. "We're here to help you! If you can hear me, just—" Suddenly her foot gave way beneath a loose stone, and she found herself stumbling forward, ready to somersault into the pit.

Just then, however, Finn reached out and, with lightning-fast reflexes, grabbed her arm and steadied her. Their eyes met for a moment.

"Like I said," he repeated, "no need getting ourselves killed."

"Thanks," Sheila muttered, regaining her footing.

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