A slow dread crept over Dave as he crouched beside one of the bodies, scanning their burnt body, their height, anything to indicate whether one of them could be Eric. But it was impossible to tell. The fire had stripped them of identity. Still, deep inside, Dave was praying and pleading, that Eric's body wasn't among them.
His jaw tightened.
Whatever happened here was no random wildfire, nor a meteor strike or beast stampede. This was targeted. Cold-blooded. The kind of thing someone does when they want to make sure nothing—no one—survives. But who could have committed something so cruel? And why?
A noise snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.
A soft shuffle, like a foot pressing into loose debris, sounded behind him.
He didn't turn right away, thinking it might be one of the girls returning. His mouth opened slightly as he called out. "Ella? Sun?"
But there was no answer.
A second later, just as he began to glance over his shoulder—
