REFUGEThe mud was pulling at my boots, trying to swallow me whole. My legs were shaking so hard I wasn't sure if I could take another step. I hadn't eaten anything but a few bitter berries in two days, and my stomach felt like it was folding in on itself.

"Just a little further," I whispered to myself. "You can't stop here. If you stop, you die."

The trees here were thick and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The air smelled of damp earth and rotting leaves. It was ...