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sounded like someone was running their thumbnail down the teeth of a comb.  
    Madelyn ran.
    She knew every centimeter of the path. It was her standard route every time she wanted to go fishing. She knew how to move down that path without leaving a trail or making a sound. She didn’t bother with any of that. Madelyn needed them to follow her.
    Behind her, she could hear them gathering.
    They locked-in to a single clicking siren behind her.  
    They were coming fast.
    In the woods or out in the marsh, they would have already caught her. As far as she knew, it was the exposed rocks on the path that slowed them down. She had no idea why, and had no intention of slowing down to ask.  
    The path swept by the stream. She kept running.
    She didn’t need the shallow, bubbling part. She needed the place under the spill of the big rocks. That’s where the pool was.
    Madelyn slowed a little to catch her breath. She willed her heart to slow down. It wouldn’t obey.  
    The clicking grew to a crescendo. It was joined by a new source from up over the hill. She hadn’t expected that. They were cutting off her turn to the north. She wasn’t going to make it.
    Madelyn heard the sound rise. The frequency of the clicks increased, until it was almost a low hum. There were almost the fingerprints of a song in there. It was nearly hypnotic.  
    Madelyn was cooked—they were coming on the path ahead of her, and closing from behind. She did the only thing she could think of. She veered to her right and jumped off the rock.
    After brief freedom in the air, she fell.  
    Madelyn hit the water and felt her heart race. It was freezing cold. Even in the middle of the day, the water would chill her to the bone. At night, the cold felt like daggers, piercing her skin. She dove under the water. It was deepest near the big rock. Madelyn dove to the bottom and reached for something to grab ahold of. Her hands found a heavy stone. By lifting it, she was forced down. She sat underwater on the rocks and lifted the stone into her lap.
    She pulled it tight to her stomach. It was her drowning baby. She looked up at blackness.
    In the rainy season, water crashed over the top of the big boulder. This time of year, the water fell politely around the side of the rock. Still, the noise was enough that it blotted out the clicking of the Roamers. She had no idea what they were doing.
    Madelyn tried to play it out in her head.
    They would sweep the area with their clicks and scan for her heat. With no sign of her, they would each begin searching. At first, their search would be small. Gradually, their radius would become larger and more chaotic. Eventually, they would spread out and it would be safe for her to come up.  
    How long would that take? Ten minutes? An hour?
    However long the process, it was definitely too long for Madelyn. Her drowning baby was already starting to kick. Madelyn let the rock slip between her legs. She eased it back down. She let the running water carry her downstream as she surfaced. Her head breached first. She took in a breath as she listened.
    The clicking had calmed. She could hear the gaps between the sounds and it seemed more faint. Still, she held her body down in the freezing water and shivered as she took in another breath. They weren’t smart, but there was a better than even chance that they would find her. Her heat would wash downstream and lead them back to her hiding place. She couldn’t stay put.
    David should have arranged for a signal. Upon making it safely back, he could have made his way up to Sacrifice Rock to fire off a gun. Then she would know it was safe to come home. Maybe it was better this way. Since they didn’t have a signal, she could assume she was clear to return.  
    Madelyn kicked against the stream until she was touching the big boulder. She worked her way to the east side before she climbed. The Roamers were often slowed by running water. She might be right to assume that there were fewer on the far