The late December night grips I-70 tight, snow was tickly falling and smothering the wrecked truck's shell.
Elias was limping, along the shoulder, the shotgun slung across his back while his leg was throbbing with pain.
Mara's gone.
Her neck snapped in the crash an hour ago. Her body rests in Daniel's arms, wrapped in his gray wool coat and the blood on it dry and dark.
Daniel staggers forward with one arm hanging limp and the salt bag scraping the snow. His breath comes in harsh bursts and his eyes were red, sunken and empty.
Elias speaks quietly. "We walking all night?"
Daniel doesn't slow with his boots grinding into the frost. His voice is rough and clipped. "Till we're home. No stopping."
Elias fumbles salt from his pack with his hands shaking. "You can't carry her like that; not with your arm busted."
Daniel slowly halts, easing Mara down onto the snow, his voice raw. "She's not rotting out here, not on this road."
He looks at Elias with a gaze both hard and determined. "Iron, move it. Fire's her way out."
Snow settles on Mara's body, and wind was slashing through the pines.
Elias nods quickly but dazed, slinging the salt bag over his shoulder.
He keeps his senses sharp listening for any movement, but the night stays quiet.
They veer off the highway, walking half a mile into a clearing where the trees are standing dark and silent around them.
Daniel sets Mara down gently, her head tilting limp with snowflakes gathering in her hair.
Elias stares at her, his chest tight and the silence around them pressing in.
Daniel kneels and pulls branches from the snow. His voice is low and strained. "Hunters don't get buried. Fire's her due." His hands shake as he stacks the wood and blood seeps through his sleeve and stains the bark.
Elias moves quickly grabbing sticks and piling them firm. He can feel his breath clouding in the cold air.
He opens Mara's coat gently. Her hands are motionless, marked with old scars, her forehead streaked with dried blood. "She'd hate lying cold…" His voice catches in his throat.
He wipes the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand forcing himself to stay steady.
Daniel pauses with his hands clenched into fists. "Yeah, she always complained about winter…" His voice cracks but he forces the words out. "I let her down, i couldn't stop it…"
The minutes pass slowly, and Elias sprinkles iron scraps around the pyre, his hands moving quickly, though his mind is heavy with grief.
"She'd tell us to finish this…" His voice cracks, but he doesn't stop.
Daniel pulls out a lighter, flicking it against the wind. The flame struggles at first but eventually catches, burning orange as it climbs the wood.
He steps back, his voice soft but broken. "Mara; burn brightly… sorry I messed up…" The fire grows consuming her body, and soon it's only ash, swept away by the wind.
Elias stands and the heat from the fire stinging his cheeks, watching as Mara disappears into the flames. "She'd want us moving…" His voice comes out thin, barely louder than the crackle of the fire.
His fingers tighten around the shotgun's stock trying to hold on to something solid.
Daniel stays still with his eyes fixed on the fire, red and hollow with grief. His face is set with jaw tight. "Yeah," he says quietly. "She'd kick us if we didn't."
The fire crackles low with snow shrinking back in a rough circle and ash drifting in the wind.
There is only the sound of the fire and the wind.
They stand there for a moment; two now, not three.
Elias limping and Daniel carrying the salt bag, turning toward home.
Grief weighs on each of them, unspoken between them, but the fire provides warmth, and the road ahead is long and cold.