Somewhere in the distance, a sputtering light soared into the air. It exploded, almost blinding Bitterroot by illuminating the snow. Amanita couldn’t’ve been stupid enough to do that; it must’ve been Trace. Bitterroot flexed her bad leg to get it ready and ran across the bridge. There were no bodies. Once she reached the other side, she did her best to memorize her route from there. Another improvised firework went off.