Meanwhile, Evan and Rusty trudged deeper into the forest. Evan's legs felt waterlogged, heavy and numb. His voice had grown too weak to call for help, even though he tried. His breath hitched as the temperature continued to fall.
Rusty suddenly stopped.
The dog's ears perked. His muscles tightened. Then he barked—but not a playful bark, not a frightened one. It was loud, sharp, desperate.
Hope flickered in Evan's chest. "Rusty? What is it?"
Rusty barked again, louder. He tugged at the sleeve of Evan's torn hoodie, urging him forward, but Evan could barely stand. His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the forest floor.
"Please…" Evan's voice shook. "Don't leave me."
Rusty didn't. He stayed pressed to Evan's side, barking again and again until his throat grew raw.
Then, faintly—an answer. A human voice calling out.
Rusty barked with all the strength he had left.