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far as she was concerned. She just wanted to be off this mountain and on to someplace safe and friendly where she could talk some sense into Bobby's head. They had nothing to hide, dammit. To run was to admit otherwise. She knew this. And she knew that Bobby would know it once he started thinking straight again. For now all that mattered was getting back to the car.
    Samuel hadn't moved in a half hour, and neither had Jacob. It really was true, wasn't it? Jacob was really dead, and these people had killed him. If it hadn't been for those two nosy nellies, everything would be just fine.
    But why are they nosy nellies to begin with?
    He whirled at the sound of Jacobs voice, only to find himself staring deeper into the woods.
    "Jacob?" he asked the night, still in his quietest voice. He looked nervously toward the campsite again, and at the body, which still hadn't moved. "Where are you?"

    No answer. Jacob was like that sometimes, asking questions just to get Samuel thinking straight.
    He stewed the question over in his mind. Why were they nosy nellies to begin with?
    Because of the kid. That damned kid, who refused to do anything he was told to do. That kid who wouldn't do anything but scream and whine and never say a fucking word to anybody. For the life of him, Samuel couldn't figure out why Jacob had wanted the kid in the first place.
    You let him get away. You fell asleep.
    That time, he knew the voice came from inside his head. The picture that Jacob wanted him to see started to focus in his mind, and once it did, Samuel wished it would disappear.
    If the kid hadn't gotten away, then the nosy nellies would never have known a thing. And if they had never known, then Jacob wouldn't have been shot. So, if Samuel hadn't fallen asleep when he should have been watching . . .
    Samuel gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep anyone from hearing him.
    Oh God, oh God, oh God, it can't be. I killed my own brother.
    Finally, they were ready. The backpacks were full, the stuff sacks stuffed, and the woods where their campsite had been looked pristine. Susan wanted to carry the boy, but with her full pack, she couldn't manage the weight, so Bobby took over. The child stank of urine and filth. He tried to carry the boy with the little one's grimy head on his shoulder, but the straps of his backpack got in the way. In the end, he had no choice but to carry him cradled in his arms.

    Bobby led the way, illuminating the path with his goofy-looking headlamp. The boy couldn't weigh much more than thirty pounds, but dead to the world as he was, he felt much heavier. Combined with the fact that Bobby could no longer see where he placed his feet on the narrow steep, rocky trail, the thirty-minute walk to the Explorer might as well have been an hour and a half.
    The woods seemed abnormally silent tonight, the blood pounding in his ears all but drowning out the distant rushing of the river. Where it had once brought a sense of peace, that hissing roar now made him worry that someone might more easily sneak up on them.
    "I see the car," Susan said from behind.
    Bobby shifted his head, and sure enough, he caught a flash of white through the naked trees. "Thank God." The little boy now felt as if he weighed three hundred pounds. Bobby's arms trembled.
    "Okay, little guy," Bobby said as he walked around to the side of the truck, "I've got to put you down for a second." The boy stood as Bobby lowered him to the ground, but he never really woke up.
    Just to be sure, Susan steadied the boy as Bobby's trembling hands fished for his keys. With two presses of the little button on the fob, the locks popped up and he pulled open the door.
    Susan hoisted the boy onto the backseat, where he instantly curled onto his side and stuffed a thumb in his mouth.
    Next came the backpacks, which they shoved through the tailgate. It was time to leave.
    "I'll ride in the back with him," Susan announced.
    Bobby opened his mouth to object, then closed it again. Why the