“I’m not going anywhere until I know where he is.”
“Disappeared into the shadows, did he?” Booker sounds like he’s going to laugh at any moment. “Scared of the storm?”
“Ziggy’s not scared of storms.”
“Maybe he went back for something,” Foley counters.
“Without telling us?”
“The guy doesn’ttalk.”
“He does to me.”
Foley lifts the giant stick he’s carrying. It’s thick and shiny, painted all black, and with it almost at eye level, I can make out the hand bones painted on the outside of his gloves. “We need to keep going.”
I bat the stick away. “I told you, I’m not leaving without him.”
“What exactly are you so worried about?”
“He was here one minute, and now he’s gone. You don’t think that’s strange?”
“Ziggy knows his way around,” Booker says, like he’s talking to a child. “He’s like a squirrel rummaging through the underbrush. He knows where we’re going, and he’ll catch back up.”
None of that makes me feel any better. “He didn’t get lost. And he’s not scared of storms. And he didn’t tell us he was leaving.”
It clicks with Foley at the same moment why I’m so worried clicks with me.
“You think something happened to him.”
“Or someone.” My pulse is picking up as I even consider the possibility. There is no way in hell that I’ve finally found the one person who makes me feel like a relationship isn’t torture and he’s taken away from me. No goddamn way.
“If there was a struggle, we would have heard it.”
Like Mother Nature is proving Foley wrong, thunder claps sharp and loud above us.
“We keep moving.”
“I told you?—”
“Ifby some chance you’re right, hanging out here isn’t going to help him. The faster we clear our area and get back to the meeting point, the faster we have the whole town looking for him. Now, stop holding us back and get moving.”
I hate that he’s making sense because all I want is to head to the meeting point now and demand that we forget about this stranger and find Ziggy. Unfortunately, I have no idea where I am, and without their help, I’m likely to be the one who goes missing next.
They’re right that the likelihood of something happening is slim, but the way I feel about Ziggy won’t let menotworry. Would he have gone off on his own? I really don’t think so, but it’s the only option that doesn’t make me panic.
I follow close behind Foley and Booker, urging them on whenever they slow down or start to bicker. Booker really, really doesn’t like him, and I have no clue what the story is between them, but their lack of urgency is irritating the shit out of me.
It feels like forever before we clear the trees, and I make out a few people up ahead. I’m assuming this is the meeting point, and I leave Foley and Booker behind as I pick up the pace. Not even the sight of Lynx makes me slow down, and I walk right up to him and his Lord of the Flies troupe.
“Ziggy’s missing.”
Those unnerving eyes settle on me. “What did you say?”
“He was with us, and then I turned around, and he was gone.”
Lynx bares his teeth, then lets out two short whistles, and the kids scatter. “Never should have trusted him with an outsider.”
“How is thismyfault?”
