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"If that changes, tell us immediately."

"I will."

We descend carefully into the ravine. The temperature drops several degrees. Mist clings to the ground despite the afternoon sun.

Carys pauses.

"My batteries just died."

"What?"

"I put fresh ones in this morning."

She opens the recorder. Dead. The backup batteries. Dead. Every phone. Every flashlight.

Every electronic device we brought. Dead.

She exhales sharply.

"Well..."

"So much for documentation."

I remove my own tablet. Black screen. Finished. Every piece of technology we've relied on has become extra weight. I unzip my pack. One by one, I remove the useless equipment. Tablet. Radio. Drone controller. Thermal camera. I place them beneath the shelter of a fallen log.

Carys watches me.

"You're leaving them?"

"If we survive..."

I look back toward the trail.

"...they'll still be here."

"And if we don't?"

"They won't matter."

Silence follows. Then she reaches into her messenger bag. She removes her phones. Her recorder. Her spare batteries. Her portable drives. One after another, she places them beside my equipment.

"I hate this."

"I know."

"They're how I understand the world."

"I know."

She takes one last look at the dead screens before closing the bag.

"Now what?"

I step closer. Now there is no technology between us and whatever waits ahead. No cameras. No maps updating in real time. No sensors. Only instinct. Training. Trust.

I kneel and use a stick to sketch quickly in the dirt. A circle.

"The Hollow."