"Thank you for all you've already done, Mr. Chatsworth," Don spoke up. "We really appreciate it."
Simon nodded. “Would you like to meet up with the men and women from the police department?”
"Absolutely," Caleb spoke up.
"Let me have my son, Steve, show you where they are."
Devon was impatient to get moving, but in his sleep-deprived state, he realized he couldn't remember his way around. They waited inside for the tall young man in a police uniform that came to take them to the cliffs; Simon’s son was a police officer. They found Rebecca and John and a few officers walking through the trees in a spread-out line. Their heads were down, each of them on the lookout for disturbed soil or footprints.
"Have you found anything?" Vince called out. The other men stopped and looked up.
"Do me a favor and stay behind us, yeah?" John responded. "Don't track over the area we haven't covered."
"We haven't found anything," Chief Hemsworth answered the original question. "Then again, we just started. Search and Rescue will do their thing this afternoon and tonight. Perhaps they'll get lucky."
"They'll have the dogs?" Devon asked. He trusted the instinct of the dogs more than he did fallible humans.
"Yes, they will," Rebecca answered.
Devon nodded. There was a feeling in his chest, something other than what was there before. It was a squeezing pressure, and he gasped under the force of it. It felt like a grotesque sort of premonition and made him nauseous.
"Maybe you should rest while they do the search, Devon," Vince suggested. "I doubt you could be much help."
Devon was already shaking his head. "I have to help. I have to."
Don stepped up to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Okay, but not for long, Devon. Seriously."
Devon tried to respond, but his mouth was desiccated. Too much alcohol from the night before combined with the sleeping pills and Valium, and he felt awful. Vince handed him a bottle of water and he drank the whole thing.
The four of them joined the line of officers, spreading out as they were instructed. Devon kept his head down and looked for any sign at all that could explain the hope to which he desperately clung. A footprint, big or small. Broken branches that appeared as though someone stepped on them.
Time passed slowly for Devon. He saw the sergeant out of the corner of his eye walking slowly and checking the ground. He felt terrible for breaking down in the man's office earlier, but he wasn't keen on apologizing out there. He tried to mull over some words he could say when they were finished for the day, but nothing came to him in particular. He stared at the dark forest floor as he walked until it blurred and he had to blink to clear his gaze and refocus. His father was right, of course. He was next to useless in his state of exhaustion and the resulting confusion. He was muddled in the head. The natural mulch from the pine needles and other bracken created a thick enough layer that, most of the time, there weren't any signs anyone had ever been through there. Devon blinked slowly and his eyelids almost refused to reopen. It was a primordial forest now, older than the earth. Older than the city of Merrimac. Older than the stars and the planets and the white spots which danced in his vision. When he tripped over a fallen log, he didn't even have the reflexes to catch himself. He merely ended up face-first in the fragrant ferns.
"Devon!" Caleb reached him first, Don shortly behind him. Everyone stopped what they were doing, noting the marks the men were inadvertently making on the ground as they rushed forward to help Devon to his feet. Rebecca repressed a sigh as she thought for the hundredth time that the father was actually making it harder for them to do their job.
"Time to go," Don insisted.
Devon blinked slowly as he looked at them, one on either side. He grinned stupidly at his brother. "Hey, Caleb."
"Hey, brother."
"I want to take a nap."
"That's the best idea you've had in two days."
