We run until the pounding of feet fades and the earth stops shuddering. At last, we stumble into a hidden cave, hastily smearing mud over the entrance to mask our scent. Collapsing against the clammy wall, I strain my ears, listening for any sign of pursuit. Silence. For now.

Questions burn on my tongue, but as I turn to Uncle Leo, he lurches to his feet.

“Where are you going?” I rasp, catching his sleeve.

“They need warmth. Water. I’m going to find firewood.” He tries to pull ...