Page 77 of Silent Bones

He opened it.

The narrative report was thin, three pages long, and half blacked out with redaction tape. The language that remained was cold, clinical: “evidence of illegal firepit,” “unauthorized alpine encampment,” “minor disturbance to soil integrity,” “no formal disciplinary action taken at this time.” No names.

Beneath the report sat a GPS overlay map, a satellite image that was grainy and distorted with age. One red dot marked a camp location above the treeline, nestled just east of Wallface Cliff. It was well beyond the legal camping zone.

Next came a DEC field inspection form. Two signatures.

Mark Halpern, Ranger Captain. And just beneath it: D. Thurston.

Noah held the page up to the light. The signature block for “Follow-Up Review” had been crossed out and re-signed by Halpern.

Over Dale’s original notes, written in blue ink, there was a comment scribbled in the corner.Incomplete report. Ranger lacks evidence.

McKenzie leaned in. “So Dale gave his opinion, and his boss didn’t like it?”

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “Or he gave more than just his opinion.”

He flipped to a supplemental sheet, no official stamp, no letterhead. A simple memo paper, clipped to the back with rusting metal. Along the margin, in shaky, tight handwriting, was another note:

“Impact spread to lower elevation. Casualties confirmed by civilian report. No camera evidence. Note, campfire not extinguished per regulations.”

McKenzie stilled. “Wait… casualties?”

Noah didn’t respond at first. He just stared at the line. He read it again. Confirmed by civilian report. Which meant someone knew. Someone reported it. But the persons name never made it into the official narrative.

He reached for his notebook, uncapped a pen, and began drawing a simple line. From the phrase “casualties confirmed” to Dale’s name on the inspection form.

The highway hummedbeneath the tires as they pulled out of Ray Brook and headed south toward High Peaks, the late-day sun drawing long shadows across the road. Neither of them spoke for the first few miles.

McKenzie drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door. His eyes tracked the double yellow lines, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The silence felt different now, no longer comfortable, but weighted.

Noah sat angled in the passenger seat, his elbows braced on his thighs, a stack of photos and old field notes balanced across his knees. Most were from the current case: the victims’ campsite, the scene log sheets from Saranac. He flipped one over, then another. Jesse Linwood, Rachel Ames, Harper Lane, Brandon Kent. And now Stephen Strudwell, found too late.

He held up a new photo of Rachel. It was the angle that caught him, the rocky backdrop behind her in one of the shots they’d pulled from her phone. It could’ve been anywhere in theHigh Peaks, but it had a steep, sheer quality to it. It resembled Wallface.

He checked the timestamp: August 19 of last year.

“The camping trip of the teens lines up last year with this year,” he muttered. “Almost exactly a year apart.”

McKenzie didn’t look over. “Anniversary theory?”

Noah nodded slowly, flipping to another image, this one from Brandon’s Instagram archive Rishi had pulled. A bonfire on a ledge. It was tagged August 21.

He unlocked his phone and started typing a text message.

Noah: “Can you pull social media posts, tagged photos, or GPS from last August tied to Jesse, Rachel, Harper, Brandon, Avery or Stephen? Focus on the Wallface area. Look for signs of an illegal hike or party. Check news articles for any injuries or deaths in the past year out there.”

Rishi (typing…)

Rishi: “That might take a bit, they have thousands of photos. Anything specific?”

Noah: “Focus on elevation pics. Cliff shots. Anything with firelight. Look at August.”

He pocketed the phone and stared out at the passing pines. It wasn’t confirmation, not yet, but it was tightening. The thread was pulling.

Behind the wheel, McKenzie finally broke the silence.

“So what are we saying now?” he asked. “Someone covered up a campsite death and then went after the kids a year later as revenge? You think they did something?”