The sound could have been anything.

A heavy branch giving way high in the dark. A car backfiring somewhere out on the highway. Thunder caught wrong in the canyon.

But this far up the mountain, deep in the trees, and miles from the locked gate where we’d left the cars, the crack that rolled across the ridge meant only one thing to me.

Noah looked up first. “Was that a gunshot?”

“Probably some idiots playing with fireworks.”

Eli’s voice was steady. He stayed crouched by the fire, poking at the embers with a long stick, like there was nothing strange about any of it.

Jules looked like he was thinking the same thing I was, but didn’t say it.

Ben shifted on the log beside him. “Could’ve been somebody target shooting.”

“At night?” Sara asked.

Nobody answered.

The clearing went still again except for the fire’s soft hiss and pop. It had taken us two hours to make it up the switchbacks to the ridge, with just enough daylight left to pitch camp and catch the last of the sunset. Eli had been asking for weeks to bring everyone up here after I told him about it—my dad’s favorite hunting spot when I was a kid. Hidden. Quiet. A view worth the climb.

About the view, at least, he’d been right. When he found out I hadn’t been back since my father died, he acted like I’d been keeping some secret from him. Maybe he’d been right about that too. My favorite part had always been the sky—clear, open, crowded with stars.

Noah slipped an arm around Sara’s shoulders and tipped his head back, his dark skin catching in the firelight. “Okay,” he said. “This place is insane.”

Sara leaned into him. “You finally admit I was right to come?”

“Oh, the hike was still a terrible idea,” he said. “I’m just saying this part makes up for it.”

Sara smiled. “That’s better.”

Jules made a soft, offended sound. “Benji, why are you never romantic like that with me?”

Ben slid closer. “I literally carried your pack the entire way.”

Jules snorted, but leaned into him anyway.

“But,” Ben added, wrapping an arm around him, “I can do this too.”

Jules considered it. “I’ll allow it.”

I smiled, but only for a second. The air had turned sharper after sunset, and my next breath caught in my throat. I coughed into my sleeve and forced down a sudden chill.

Eli reached behind him, grabbed the sweatshirt he’d tossed over his pack, and draped it around my shoulders.

“You’re cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“Maya. You’re shaking.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and tugged it on. “Okay. Maybe I am cold. Thank you.”

A streak flashed overhead.

“Look,” Noah said. “Shooting star.”

Sara missed it and swore softly. Ben caught the tail end, and Jules immediately announced he wasn’t telling anybody his wish.

For a few seconds, the mood almost settled.

Then the howling started. Not close. Somewhere uphill.

Sara turned toward the trees. “Please tell me there aren’t wolves out here.”

“We’re too low for wolves,” I said before I could stop myself.

Everybody looked at me.

Ben frowned. “How do you know that so fast?”

“My dad used to take me hunting here,” I said. “Wolves don’t come this far down unless it’s winter or they’re desperate.”

Jules lifted an eyebrow. “A dog, then?”

I shook my head. “Probably a coyote.”

“That,” Jules said, “is somehow less comforting.”

Noah leaned forward. “Have you actually seen one up close?”

I should’ve said no.

Instead I said, “A coyote? Yeah.”

Five faces turned toward me. The fire pressed heat against my shins. Beyond it, the trees stood black and motionless.

“One came into our camp once,” I said. “It was dark. My dad told me to stay put while he took his rifle to check the trail. While he was gone, I saw it near the tree line. It was limping. Or that’s what I thought.”

Sara’s voice dropped. “You followed it?”

I nodded. “I was twelve. I thought it was hurt. It kept moving just slow enough for me to keep up. Every few seconds it looked back, like it wanted to make sure I was still there.”

Nobody said anything.

“When it rounded a bend, two more stepped out of the brush. One to my left. One behind me.”

Noah straightened. “No way.”

I stood up and touched the side of my calf through my jeans. “I have the scar to prove it. I don’t know what would’ve happened if my dad hadn’t saved me.” I looked into the fire. “I’ve never seen him so mad—or scared. Afterward he said, ‘That coyote’s limp is what got you close. Never forget that. Next time you might not be so lucky.’”

Jules stared at me. “You never told us that.”

“It’s not exactly conversation material.”

Sometime while I’d been talking, the howling stopped. The silence that followed felt worse, stretched too tight, like the mountain was bracing for whatever was coming next.

From the dark behind us, a twig snapped.

At the edge of the clearing, just beyond the firelight, a dog emerged. It was lean, its coat streaked with dirt. It didn’t bark. It just sat there looking at us.

Then a man stepped out behind it.

A dark brown cap was pulled low over his face. Plaid flannel unbuttoned over a faded T-shirt. Jeans and work boots dusty from the trail. A rifle rested easy in one arm, with a hunting knife at his belt and a small pack slung over one shoulder.

No one spoke.

“Evening,” he said.

His voice was calm. That was the first thing wrong with him.

Eli rose first from his crouch by the fire. “Trail’s back that way.”

The man gave a small nod. “I know.”

Ben stood, Jules beside him, and the rest of us followed more slowly. Sara tucked in close at Noah’s side.

The dog just sat. Only now it wasn’t looking at us. It was looking at the man.

The man went around the fire, taking us in one face at a time, and I had the sick feeling he was counting us. When his eyes landed on me, my stomach dropped.

“That story you told,” he said. “About the coyotes.”

I wished immediately I hadn’t opened my mouth.

“Smart animals,” he said.

Ben kept his voice careful. “Do you need help?”

The man thought about that. “Something like it.”

The rifle never lifted, but nobody stopped watching it. Noah gave a shaky laugh. “Man, you scared the hell out of us.”

The stranger bent and ran one hand over the dog’s head. “His name’s Dog,” he said.

Everyone watched, frozen.

Then his gaze settled on Sara. “You,” he said. “Come here.”

Noah’s hand tightened around hers. “Why?”

“Because she’s closest,” the man said, glancing at the dog. “Dog’s hurt. I need someone to take a look.”

The stranger’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Come on, now.”

The rifle in his arm shifted just enough to point our way.

Sara looked at Noah, took one quick breath, and let go of his hand. “Okay,” she said, voice shaky.

She took one step toward the dog, then another.

As soon as she was in range, the man caught her by the upper arm and yanked her back against him. Sara gasped, then cried out. His knife flashed into his free hand and came up under her jaw.

Noah jerked toward her. “Sara!”

With his free arm, the man lifted the rifle, but all any of us saw was the knife at Sara’s neck.

“Unless you want her dead, I suggest you back off,” the man said. Calm as before. “Nobody moves.”

Noah stopped where he was. None of us moved.

The man’s gaze slid past us toward the switchbacks leading down to the trailhead where we’d left the cars. When it came back, it caught on the orange carabiner clipped to Eli’s pack, glinting in the firelight. Keys. A vehicle. A way off the mountain. Eli saw it too. When the man lifted his eyes again, he said, almost politely, “I need one of you to shoot me.”

For a second the words meant nothing. Jules was the first to react. “What?”

“I need one of you to shoot me.”

Ben said, “Nobody’s shooting anybody.”

“Not kill me,” the man said. “Shoulder. High arm. Just enough to make it look right.”

His eyes moved across the group, then settled on Noah.

“You,” he said. “You’re her boyfriend.” He tipped the knife hand slightly toward Sara. “You’ll do it.”

Noah stared at him. “No.”

Eli stepped half a pace forward. “I’ll do it.”

The stranger didn’t even look at him. “No.” His eyes stayed on Noah. “He doesn’t want anything to happen to her. That makes him careful.”

Jules pulled on Ben’s arm and looked toward the switchbacks leading down. “Come on, Ben. We’re leaving.”

“No,” the man said.

He didn’t raise his voice, but all six of us froze. The fire popped. Somewhere high above us, wind moved through the pines.

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “I need this to look right.”

That was when it clicked: the crack across the ridge, the way he kept glancing toward the trail, the rifle held low not like a threat but like a tool, the dog sitting there silent and patient as if it had seen this before. Suddenly I was twelve again, staring at the coyote in the brush.

The limp is what got you close. Never forget that.

Ben swallowed. “What accident?”

The man looked into the dark beyond us. “The kind that gets complicated if I’m the only one telling it.”

“Oh my God,” Jules said.

The rifle stayed low in the stranger’s free hand, but now Sara stood between him and the rest of us.

“Everyone relax,” he said. “This will be over soon. Then you can go back to what you were doing. One shot. Shoulder. She stays alive.”

Sara made a small, broken sound, her breathing quick and shallow.

“I’ll do it,” Eli said.

The knife pressed tighter. A thin line of blood appeared beneath Sara’s jaw.

“No. The boyfriend. Now.”

That was when I understood the shape of him. Not desperate. Not panicked. Predatory. He wanted a wound. Our prints on the rifle. Witnesses too scared to think straight. Something already dead out there in the trees, and us folded into the story of it.

Noah’s eyes flicked from Sara to the rifle and back again. Frozen. The stranger saw it. Counted on it.

And suddenly I knew something else: he expected the danger to come from Noah or Eli. Not from me.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

Everybody looked at me. Even him.

Sara made a strangled sound. “Maya—”

“I’m the only one here who’s shot a rifle before,” I said. “If you want it done,” I said to the man, “then let me do it.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. He was measuring me now. Smaller than Eli. Easier than Ben. A woman. Cold. Shaking.

I stepped toward him and let my right foot drag for half a beat before I caught myself. Then I did it again. Not much. Just enough.

Eli’s voice cracked. “Maya?”

I didn’t look at him. My next step was steadier, but I kept the hitch in it.

I saw the coyote again, looking back at me as it limped. I looked at the man, made sure he noticed my limp. I could feel him watching me.

“Good,” he said. “Nice and easy.”

I came around the fire with both hands visible. Heat pressed against my shins. Eli was still by the pack. Ben and Jules stood together on the far side of the flames. Noah hadn’t moved, his eyes locked on Sara.

The stranger shifted Sara tighter against him, then turned sideways just enough to hand me the rifle.

I stopped three feet away and held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

He hesitated, then reversed the rifle and held it out, keeping the knife tight beneath Sara’s jaw.

The second the stock hit my palm, I grabbed the barrel with my other hand and wrenched it up and away from Sara—away from all of us—and pulled the trigger.

The shot tore into the trees. The blast shattered the clearing.

“Down!” I yelled, pulling the rifle back and trying to shoulder it.

The stranger flinched, eyes going wide. His grip on Sara loosened just enough. Sara dropped hard under his arm. Noah grabbed her and dragged her backward through the dirt. Eli lunged at the stranger, aiming high, both hands clamping onto the knife arm. Ben drove into him low, at the hips. The three of them went sideways. For half a second the man was nothing but elbows and boots and flannel in the dirt, fighting to get free. Jules darted in and kicked at his wrist until the blade came loose and skidded past the fire.

Then the man bucked hard, twisting out of Eli’s grasp and shoving Ben off to the side. Jules jumped back. He surged upright, his eyes flicking once toward the knife in the dirt before locking on me.

“Stay back!” I snapped.

But he was already moving.

My father’s voice came to me, flat and cold: When you see your shot, don’t hesitate.

The man charged. I fired.

The crack slammed off the trees. He folded and hit the ground hard.

Dog vanished into the dark.

For a second nobody moved. Then Sara started crying for real, bent over and gasping while Noah held her against him. Eli stayed on one knee, breathing hard. Ben stood over the body, chest heaving. Jules stared at the knife in the dirt like he couldn’t believe it had been real.

I kept the rifle up and listened to my own breathing. Somewhere beyond the clearing, deeper in the trees, something moved. But whatever story the stranger had come there to tell was over now. The limp is what got you close. Only this time, I hadn’t walked blind into danger. I invited danger to walk close to me.