CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ilse felt her stomach turn as she ducked under the low-hanging branches outside the campsite. Her heart hammered as she recognized the campers huddled around a doused campfire. Under the sun, the college-aged kids from the night before looked even younger, smaller, huddled together. Two of them were crying, but the girl with the straw-colored braids was staring off into the distance, a numb expression across her face.
Sheriff Culpepper was there, talking to one of the young men who'd been smashing brown bottles. Named Jeb, if she remembered correctly. The kid's face was pale, and it looked like he hadn't slept a wink.
Sawyer was still stalking along behind her, but Ilse didn't wait for him to keep up, taking the lead herself this time.
The kids with the dreadlocks, the
