Chapter 4 - The Hunt for Myrtle
Myrtle Savage had vanished. The rural terrain of Pennsylvania, with its dense forests and abandoned mining shafts, was her sanctuary. She knew every inch of the land, and she knew how to disappear into it.
Eric took a leave of absence from the Army, officially acting as a consultant for the state police. He spent his days in the woods, tracking her through the same techniques he’d used to track high-value targets in the Middle East. He found her camp three days later, located deep within the state park—a primitive structure built into the side of a ravine.
He moved in at dawn, his movements silent, his senses heightened. He found Myrtle sitting by a small fire, waiting. She didn't look like a fugitive; she looked like a prophet.
"You’re just like your father, Eric," she said, not looking up. "Always looking for answers in the dirt."
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"Where are the others?" Eric demanded, his weapon drawn, though he hoped he wouldn't have to use it.
"There are no others," she replied. "There is only the cycle. And you just broke it."
