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Camden pushed the door open and then took him by the arm. “Come on. I’m here.”
His brother smiled. “Bemme,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
It smelled like dirt and mildew inside, and struck him as a long-vacant place that had been left in a hurry. He looked at his brother, eyes darting around nervously and wondered where he’d been when they carted Narcisa’s body away. Had he watched them from some shadowy corner, chanting quietly, not understanding what was happening or why he was suddenly alone? He couldn’t let himself picture that. He couldn’t. “Hurry,” he said again.
His brother did move then, stepping forward and going down on his knees, pushing a threadbare rug aside, and prying a board from the floor. He reached underneath, bringing something out, and then stood, handing the item to Camden.
It was the brown leather bag, the one he’d given to Kandace so many years before. He pulled the flap back and looked inside to see a stack of folders, the proof she’d obtained about their mothers. It was what she’d died for.
He itched to know its contents, but he didn’t have time to look at it, not now.
His lungs burned. He smiled at his brother. He wished he could ask him where he’d found it and when. But he couldn’t, and so he settled on, “Thank you.” He pulled at his arm. “Hurry,” he said again because the man seemed to know that word.
His brother pulled back, pointing to something near the wall. A trunk. He said a word that Camden could not decipher, pulling him to where the storage container sat. “Hurry,” he said again. His brother dashed to the trunk, flung it open and grabbed something inside. Then he returned to Camden handing him the small piece of fabric.
An embroidered baby hat. And stitched on it was the name Alonzo.
“Alonzo?” Camden asked, pointing to him.
Alonzo gave a grunty giggle, looking shy, but infinitely pleased.
“Alonzo,” Camden repeated. He pointed at himself. “Camden.”
“Bemme,” Alonzo said softly.
Good enough. “Canyon,” he said but Alonzo just tilted his head, staring at him in confusion.
Camden let out a breath of frustration just as it dawned on him what Alonzo would know it as. “Novaatngar,” he said. The dark place.
Alonzo’s face lit with understanding. He nodded and they turned to the door where Camden spotted a tall spear leaning against the corner wall. He grabbed it. They could use any weapon they could get their hands on. They rushed through the door, heading back into the woods as Camden strapped the bag around his body as Kandace had surely done in these very woods thirteen years before. He was even more in awe of her at that moment, considering what she achieved. You were so, so brave, Kandace. You deserved so much more than this life gave you.
“Hurry!” he said to Alonzo and Alonzo ran, Camden on his heels, the noise of their hunters drawing closer in pursuit. If they could get to the canyon ahead of the men, they could change direction and follow the outer rim and eventually meet up with Scarlett.
And the state police.
Camden followed his brother’s lead, avoiding the shadows, trusting Alonzo to lead him to the canyon. They’d need to make it there well ahead of the hunters if they were going to get far enough away that they wouldn’t be seen in the sweeping light. They had hounds, and the hounds could follow their scent, but the dogs would also slow them down. The edge of the canyon offered little cover, but it would be the quickest way to travel, open ground where they could straight-out sprint.
They just needed to get to that trail and hope a squad car waited. You can do this, Scarlett. I know you can. Walk in the water. Walk in the water.
The trees thinned, the shadows of boulders rising around them. They were almost there when Camden heard a buzzing behind them. Alonzo and Camden slowed as the sound of the buzzing increased, dipping and rising, drawing ever nearer. It was an engine. A dirt bike, possibly two. Fuck! He hadn’t imagined they’d ride dirt bikes into a thick forest, much less travel at the speed at which he could hear them coming. There were a hundred ways the driver could be injured or thrown. Or, most likely, crash headfirst into a tree.
It meant they were desperate.
There was no way they could outrun a dirt bike and it was coming fast. Camden grabbed Alonzo, shoving him in a large east-facing crevice between two boulders. The approaching light wouldn’t find him there. They’d have to pass him and look back to see Alonzo, and Camden didn’t intend to let that happen. He’d create a distraction. They were coming for him anyway, not his brother. He took the bag from around his body, and strapped it to Alonzo. Then he handed him the spear. “Hide,” he whispered. Alonzo squatted behind the boulder, gazing up at him with wide, fearful eyes. He’d obviously known that word. “Hide,” Camden repeated, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
