“Are you okay?” Ash wraps an arm around Caro. “Are you sure about this?”
Caro shrugs, fiercely blinking back tears. “We have to follow the texts,” she says. “What if it helps us find Hope? What if it helps us find out—” Her voice breaks.
“What if it’s dangerous?” Ash asks. “I didn’t call the police. Did you?”
“No. They haven’t been very helpful so far.” Caro exhales in frustration. “They can’t seem to findanyonewho’s missing.”
“I’ll give them a call right now,” Ash says. “I’ll say we got another message and that we can’t tell if it’s from her.” She lifts her phone and furrows her brow. “Never mind. No coverage. Should we drive back into range and call? Sorry. I should have thought of this sooner. My brain is mush.”
“No,” Caro says. “We’re out of time. We have to go.” They start along the trail together, moving quickly. They pass one cluster of hikers, then another. “Did Hope tell you she was doing this?” Caro asks Ash. “Putting the permit in your name and all of that?”
Ash shakes her head. “Maybe she got a permit for herself, too,” she says hopefully. “Maybe she’s planning on meeting us at the top.”
“These permits are famously impossible to get.” Caro feels a rare twinge of optimism. “That’s what makes me think itmightbe her,” she says. “Hope Hanover magic.”
Below them, the park shuttle winding its way along the road snaking through the canyon gives out a sigh of exhaust. Under the sound of the footsteps and the noise of fellow hikers in front of and behind them, there are quiet sounds, of birds calling and things moving in the early morning. The sun hasn’t yet crested over the massive monoliths reaching up around them, so the sky is palest blue, deepest pink, and the colors of the sandstone are rich and ancient.
It’s different from the Underground. Here, they begin on a valley floor, choosing to climb up to the tops of the enormous formations. They aren’t descendinginto. They are rising above. But there is risk either way. The park’s official website has plenty of warnings about how strenuous and dangerous Seraph’s Perch is. Especially when you reach the saddle and then head up a slippery sandstone path along the thin ridgeline to the viewpoint. There, the park service has even affixed chains into the sandstone so that hikers can hold on along some of the more precarious parts.
“What if Hope didn’t send this text?” Ash asks softly. “What if it’s our lurker?”
“I don’t knowwhatto think.” Caro scrubs the heels of her hands against her eyes in exhaustion. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“I’ve been reading about Seraph’s Perch online,” Ash says. “People die every year hiking it.”
“Do you think our lurker would bring us here to try to kill us?” Caro asks, stunned.
“I don’t know,” Ash says. “Maybe. Why would Hope send us on a hike without her? Why wouldn’t she just show up and tell us she’s okay?”
“Maybe these are pre-prepared texts,” Caro says. “Like emails you can have automatically sent at certain times?”
“Can you do that with texts?” Ash asks.
“I don’t know,” Caro admits.
They pass a couple holding hands and a group of college-age boys who have stopped to take a drink and look out at the increasingly broadened view. The parking lot already looks small, the cars like toys.
“Hey,” Ash says. She’s as fast as Caro, but her legs are shorter, and every now and then she has to do a few jog-steps to catch up. “I wanted to ask you about this.” She pulls a paper from the back pocket of her shorts and hands it to Caro.
They both keep up the pace as Caro glances down at the postcard Ash has handed her.
Hey Dad,
I was thinking about the Devil’s Backbone Drive and how you and I used to go eat at the grill in Story after. I remembered how they served everything on mismatched china and had fresh rainbow trout on the menu. Do you? Should we try to go there again?
I love you.
Caro
“I found it in the Buick after you left,” Ash says.
There’s a chill to her tone, and at first Caro can’t figure out why—or why Ash has the postcard in the first place. Caro glances down at it again, puzzled, and then she sees.
It’s postmarked. It’s been sent.
Oh.That explains Ash’s coolness. They promised Hope they wouldn’t mail the cards until the trip was over. But how much does that matter now? Caro can’t keep up with anything anymore, with what might be important and what might not. “I didn’t mail it,” Caro says. “I swear. Someone else must have sent it.”
“It reveals our location,” Ash says.
