He’d come to learn the driver’s name was Harley. The younger passenger’s name was Chris. They drove far into the most rural parts of the mountain and parked the truck in a secluded barn at the edge of the wilderness. They went on foot from there, trudging up rough terrain, into the most remote parts of Fate Mountain. The rocky landscape was still cold in the summer time. The pine trees grew sparse at the higher elevations and the air was thin. They continued walking through the forest, patches of frost still lay on the ground. Gauge followed the other men, walking confidently over the rough trail. They went on for two hours before stopping in a clearing. There were three horses tethered to trees, waiting for them. They transferred their packs to the horses and climbed onto the saddles. Continuing up the mountain, at times even the horses struggled to climb. Night fell and Chris and Harley decided it was time to make camp.
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