“I don’t know,” Holt said, his expression grim. “But we’re going to find out.”
Holt stepped out of the cabin and inspected the ground surrounding the front door. “I can barely make out a set of prints that leads away from the door toward the swamp in that direction.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the dock.
The open patch surrounding the cabin suddenly grew darker and they looked up at the sky, beginning to swirl with dark clouds.
“The storm’s moving in early,” Alex said. “Not good.”
“No. This is the last place I want to be trapped in a storm.”
“But we’re not going to leave, are we?”
Holt stared at the sky, frowning. “We can try to follow the footsteps, but when it starts raining, we have to leave and in a hurry. Any footprints that are visible will be lost in the downpour, anyway.”
Alex looked at the swamp, now almost completely dark from the fading sunlight. “Then we’ll hurry.”
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