“What are you saying?” Michael said slowly. Was the kidnapping aimed to hurt The Senator?

Frustration crossed Chris’s face. “He never threatened the other kids’ families. Just mine. And I always felt like his focus was on me…I mean…like the other kids were there accidentally.”

“The kidnapping was because of you? To get at The Senator? Or Mom?”

Chris scowled. “But he never said that. I inferred it, I think. The real Chris and I talked about it over and over. Why was the focus on me?”

Michael’s stomach coiled. “Fuck. You didn’t say what happened to Jamie’s brother,” he whispered. “It’s not good, is it?”

Chris shut his eyes. “No. It’s not.”

“Come on, Chris! Move it!” Daniel begged. “We can’t stop now.”

Chris looked like he couldn’t take another step. Daniel had been almost carrying him for several hours. He’d hooked Chris’s arm about his neck and simply dragged. They hadn’t seen water since they’d left the hellhole. And that was yesterday morning. Daniel looked up, trying to judge the time, but he couldn’t see the sun. The forest was too dense.

They would never find a way out of the woods.

Daniel didn’t care. He’d rather die in the woods than spend another minute with the Ghostman. The boys had made an agreement. Death was preferable to the life they’d been living, and they would do it together. It’d been Chris who’d figured out how to keep the bunker lid from fully latching when the Ghostman left. They’d tried for years to get it open. Blocking the latch had taken coordinated timing and distraction during a visit. One boy to distract and the other to slip the small piece of wood into the latch’s socket. From the Ghost’s perspective, the lid had fully locked as he left.

Before they escaped, Chris had been struggling with a fever for a few weeks. The Ghostman had given him some medicine, and Chris had seemed better, but then he was suddenly sicker than he’d been to start with. The last three days he’d had a cough that’d shook his whole body. Today, he’d spit blood when he coughed. Last night had been so cold…Daniel didn’t want to think about sleeping in the dirt again.

He’d covered up Chris with dirt and leaves, trying to get him warm, then slept with his arms around him for body heat. Had he even slept? It felt like he’d woken up every ten minutes to strange sounds in the woods. He’d expected the Ghostman to leap out from behind every tree. Chris’s bony body didn’t offer much in the way of body heat. He swore both of them had shivered all night, but at least it hadn’t rained.

He knew it was summer. He didn’t know the month, but he did know the year. This was the second summer since he’d been taken. To him, summer meant the hole was slightly less cold. And the Ghostman would wear shorts.

He breathed deep. The air smelled so rich and clean. The hole had stunk. It’d stunk after the first week. If only the clean air was enough to give Chris the energy to keep moving.

Just before full dark last night, he’d seen a light. A moving light far off in the woods, and he’d known HE was looking for them. At least he didn’t have anyone to help him. He’d told them hundreds of times that the hellhole was his special secret that he’d shared with no one. Daniel didn’t think he’d reveal his secret now.

Chris’s legs stopped moving completely. Before, he’d at least helped balance or propel himself as Daniel dragged him along.

“I can’t. I can’t go any further. Just let me rest for a little bit. Then I’ll walk.”

Chris’s cracked lips alarmed Daniel. And he was so hot. It was like a fire was burning him from the inside out. His skin seemed lightly scorched everywhere. Almost scaly.

Daniel feared stopping. He didn’t believe he’d be able to get Chris going again. But he stopped and eased Chris down next to an ancient fallen tree. Chris sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the bark.

“I’ll just rest for a bit.”

Daniel studied his best friend. Chris’s bones stuck out everywhere, but so did Daniel’s. But Chris’s skin looked stretched so tight over the elbow when he bent his arm. The arm that he could bend. The other arm had been broken months ago and never healed right. Chris barely ever used it. The Ghostman had fashioned him a sling that he wore nonstop. He said his arm hurt whenever he took it off.

Daniel sat down next to his friend. Hot tears leaked out of his eyes, and he swiped at them angrily. Crying wasn’t going to get them out of the woods.

“Daniel?” It was a whisper.

“Yes?” Daniel wiped at his eyes again.

“I don’t think I’m going to get back up.”

Daniel’s heart froze. “You just need a rest. Take a short nap, and you’ll be ready to go again.”

“No, Daniel. Really—”

“Shut up, Chris! Just shut up! You’re going to be fine!” His voice cracked.

Chris opened his eyes and looked straight at his friend. Daniel could see the defeat in his eyes. “We both know I’m not going any further. I can’t feel my feet, Daniel.”

Daniel flung his arms around his friend and squeezed him tight to his chest, throwing Chris into a coughing fit. Daniel didn’t let go. “No, Chris,” he whispered. “I can’t do this alone. It’s supposed to be you and me. Both of us till the end.”

Chris laid his head on Daniel’s shoulder. It felt as light as a kitten. “I know. But if something happens to me, promise you’ll keep going.”