"No," Van says, her voice raspy. "It’s footsteps."

Nat doesn't answer. She opens the door, and the cold rushes in, a physical blow that steals the air from their lungs. She steps out onto the porch, the wood groaning under her weight.

The premiere of the second season doesn’t open with a bang, but with a whisper of wind against the panes of glass. Inside, the silence is heavy. The surviving team members sit around the common area, their breath visible in small, dissipating clouds. They are no longer the star athletes of Wiskayok; they are gaunt figures wrapped in layers of mud-stained jerseys and fur.