Page 24

“That’s it,” he agrees.

We walk down the road until we’re parallel with the limb. Then we repeat the process from earlier, where Henry strides in, crowbar in hand, while I shine the flashlight.

This branch is only about ten feet farther than the last one. But it’s ten feet too far, taking him to the outer reaches of the flashlight beam.

“Hold up!” I call, and I take a deep breath and step into the forest so the light shines farther.

He doesn’t turn, and I don’t expect him to. He’s been keeping his gaze ahead as he surveys his path. I can feel as if I’m overreacting, but Henry isn’t exactly strolling in there. He’s acting like a man entering a lion enclosure to retrieve his lost phone.

He stands there, stock-still, not even his head turning.

“Henry?” I call as my heart flutters. “Do you see something?”

No response.

“Henry?”

My brain screams at me to shut the hell up. He obviously sees something, and I’m the idiot shouting when he’s trying very hard to be still and silent.

I adjust my grip on the flashlight and ease it from side to side, carefully cutting a wider swatch while not letting Henry out of the light.

He’s stopped exactly where he halted when I asked him to hold up. His gaze is fixed straight ahead.

I creep sideways while making sure his field of vision stays lit. I get about three feet, and then I can see directly in front of him.

There’s nothing there. Just trees and that fallen limb.

Seconds tick past, and sweat drips into my eye, despite the chill. I swallow back the urge to call to him again.

At least two minutes have passed and Henry hasn’t moved a muscle.

Frozen by what he sees?

What does he—?

Henry disappears.

NINEHENRY

The branch is right there. Getting it takes Henry beyond the edge of the flashlight beam, but that’s fine. He’ll dart to it and—

The light goes out, plunging him into darkness.

He spins, bellowing “Ellie!” loud enough that he mentally slaps himself. Scare the shit out of her, why don’t you? Obviously Ellie isn’t the only one on edge. Her flashlight went out, and all he could think was that something had grabbed her.

Something?

Like what?

A little voice slithers up from Henry’s subconscious, whispering that this is not normal. Not a normal storm. Not a normal car crash.

Then what is it?

He has no answer for that, so he shakes his head and shoves his doubts away, as he strides back toward the road, calling, “Ellie? You okay?,” quieter now, calmer, even as his breath comes short. She’s fine. The flashlight died, that’s all. Still, when she doesn’t answer, he breaks into a run and—

His shoe bashes into something, and he trips, landing hard on a fallen tree. He pushes up, brushing off his hands, feeling blood welling on one. He squints, and he can’t see the tree, but when he crouches, he touches the bark.

Where did that come from? He hadn’t stepped over a fallen tree on his way out.