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Ash looked me in the eye. "This stuff about the girl. Annie. You've met her?"
"I have."
"Could she have been faking it? Maybe her and her brother set this up so you'd think you need a Cabal's help?"
I shook my head. "It was real. She's regressing, and it's . . ." I swallowed. "I can't imagine it."
"Fine," he said. "We'll try it your way. It won't work, but I can tell you're not going to believe that until you've given it a shot."
TEN
ASH DIDN'T GET A whole lot more pleasant after that. He insisted he'd come to rescue me, but acted like I'd found him--against his will--and now I was clinging like a burr, tenacious and irritating.
When we finished eating, he wanted to find a spot to hole up for the night.
"We need to stake out a good place now," he said. "Before it's dark. Otherwise, all the good spots will be taken."
"We found one the night before last," I said. "We can just go back--"
"Never use the same spot twice. Not when you're running."
He seemed to have some experience with this. A lot of experience? I looked down at his tattered sneakers. I had a feeling he didn't live with those "so-called friends" of our mother anymore.
"So where do street people live in this city?" he said. He shook his head. "Why am I asking you? Hell, this is Canada. The great socialist nation to the north. You guys don't even have homeless people, I bet."
"We have them, unfortunately," I said as calmly as I could.
"Guess socialism isn't really working out for you, huh?"
"Canada is a democracy. That means we're not a socialist country or a communist country or a--"
"We have homelessness and we have gangs," Daniel cut in. "Both of which could be an issue in finding a place to spend the night. You're right, though. We have no idea where to look for a spot. We're going to need to rely on you for that."
I cleared my throat. "Actually, there are a few dozen homeless living here in the park. Long-term campers deep in the woods. When Vancouver had that big windstorm in 2006, they had to go looking for the homeless people, make sure they were all accounted for. Dad came over to help with some other rangers."
"Make sure they were accounted for?" Ash said. "What? They keep a roster, check in on them from time to time?"
"The park management knows they're there. They aren't hurting anyone, so no one bothers them."
Ash shook his head as if this, too, was clearly the sign of a backward nation.
I said, "As long as we get deep enough in the woods and don't bother them, we can stay here for the night."
And I'd really like to stay in the forest, if I can. But I didn't say that. I had a feeling it would make him decide to stay anyplace but here.
"We should," Daniel said. "It makes sense. We're not going to need to worry about gangs in here."
"All right," Ash said. "Find a spot."
As we headed into the woods, Ash just followed along, glancing from side to side, as if he expected wolves to leap out.
Earlier, he'd seemed perfectly comfortable climbing trees. Adept at it. And as long as we'd kept to the edge of the forest, he'd been fine. But Stanley Park is bigger than New York's Central Park. As we got in deeper, leaving the sounds of the city behind, he grew even more tense and quiet.
"You okay?" I said when he jumped at a sparrow hopping through a bed of needles.
"'Course," he snapped. "Just paying attention. Someone has to."
Corey nodded. "You never know. That sparrow could have had an Uzi hidden--"
