Dean stood in a newly cleared patch of open ground at the center of the camp, watching the latest batch of more than thirty survivors being helped toward the medical tents.
They had been found in a crystal vein that emitted psychic shrieks. Most suffered from severe auditory hallucinations and staggered as they walked, yet still clutched guns long since emptied of ammunition or chipped blades.
"Any news from the last team?" he asked without turning around.
The communications officer behind him rapidly flipped through the records tablet.
"Pathfinder Squad. Captain Walker, fifty members. They have been out of contact for ninety-six hours. Their last transmitted coordinates were roughly two hundred and seventy kilometers to the northwest, near the edge of Howling Canyon. According to schedule, they should have either started their return yesterday or sent a signal."
"Howling Canyon..." Dean rolled the words around in his mouth.
Benny had mentioned the place before, saying it was one of Purgatory's landmarks. The energy turbulence there was powerful enough to make compasses spin in place, and there were plenty of troublesome things that liked to hide in energy shadows.
"What about the contact drones we sent?"
"All thirteen lost contact after entering within twenty kilometers of the canyon's outskirts. The energy interference is too strong."
Dean cursed and turned toward the command tent.
Sam was inside, staring at an enormous holographic terrain map of Purgatory marked with every rescue route, known danger zone, and survivor discovery point.
The green light representing Pathfinder Squad had stopped at a deep-red canyon entrance and had not moved for a long time.
"Walker isn't a rookie," Sam said without looking up, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "His team carried enough borax bombs and emergency teleportation talismans when they descended into the abyss. If they can't