They spilled out of the pickup fast.
The cold hit Iyisha the second her boots touched the ground, sharper without the metal walls, the wind cutting straight through her layers and setting her teeth clattering harder. She sucked in a breath that burned her chest and hugged her arms close, forcing her legs to move even as they shook.
"Move," John said, already looking down the road. "We ditch it and run for the trees."
Fenigan turned on him immediately. "We can't leave the food."
"We need cover," Malcolm said at once, voice level but final.
Aaron was already grabbing Fenigan's arm, dragging him backward as he spoke. "We can always hunt again," he muttered, the words tight and bitter. "We can't replace people."
