Each crunch of leaves under their boots sounded louder than it should, sending shivers through him. If he could just slip away—find a safer spot or circle around to the path without being spotted—maybe he still had a chance.
Wade inhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to steady. He began inching backward, foot by careful foot, avoiding the flashlight beams that sliced through the clearing. The soft bleat from the white calf twisted his stomach with guilt and fear, but he knew charging in headlong would only get him killed. Inch by inch, he retreated, his teeth gritted against the panic surging up his throat.