“Or we can live here in this box,” he deadpans, grabbing a firewood axe off the wall.
“Do it. Do it.”
It’s not difficult to dispatch them once he breaks the glass. They clog the opening, trying to spill over each other, and hedrives that axe right through their skulls one by one until they’ve dropped in a pile. Even the fast one, who shoved the others out of the way to get the first chance at the blade, goes down easily enough.
It’s not difficult, but it takes a while. Longer than he expected when they won’t stop squirming around. A few start leaving to chase a new brown cat who peeks out of the woods. He has to call them back again more than once, and that wastes precious time.
When it’s finally clear, they rush out to the place they last saw Emma, only to be met with nothing but silence. No crying or screaming, no response when they call her name.
“I froze,” Addison says suddenly.
“What?”
“I stood there, and I froze. I didn’t help her. I didn’t do anything.”
“What you’re doing right now won’t help either. Can’t get hung up on that. It wasn’t just you. I dragged your ass into that shed.”
Her tears come fast and hard, her whole body shaking so clearly he can almost feel the vibrations.
“Get your knife out. She can’t be far,” he continues, leading her deeper into the treeline. “What the hell was she doing out here?”
“The cat,” Addison replies, in between bellowing out Emma’s name. “I bet she saw the cat again, and I wasn’t there to keep her inside.”
Emma knows better, he’s sure of that, but she’s still a kid. Been obsessed with that animal since it showed up. Without anyone to stop her, she couldn’t resist.
They aren’t five minutes into the search before a slow rotter appears with a pack of its friends. There’s no choice but to sprint back the way they came and into the house, shove the doorshut behind them, and push a chair under the handle for good measure.
“Where do you think they’re all coming from?” Her words tremble like her lower lip.
“Has to be the fence line in the woods. I saw it around the back on my way down here. Nothing but wire. It looked okay when I checked it the other day, but that doesn’t mean anything if a few of them were pushing on it. I’m surprised they aren’t going for the goats.”
“They probably fainted already.”
He snorts. “Forgot they play dead like possums.”
That whole line of fence needs reinforcing. He knew that from the start, but the panels actually on the ground took priority. Now, he wishes he had started there instead.
“If there’s a fence in the back of the property, that’s good, right? Could it be keeping her in? How far is it?”
“About five miles in, give or take.”
Her face drops. “Five miles of woods between here and there. Okay, okay, that’s not bad. It’s doable, we can find her.”
“It is doable. We will find her.”
“But? You’re making a face, Wyatt.”
“I’m not making a face,” he lies.
“Tell me.”
He sighs, wondering if he’ll be dashing her hopes in one go. “The fence is only three feet high. After that, there are miles of woods in all directions and then…”
“And then?”
“The freeway, if she goes west. A forest if she goes east.”
He’s not especially familiar with this area, but he flew over it twice, circling for a place to land, and spent a good half day on foot getting here. He remembers enough to know that Emma will end up in the middle of nowhere if she hops that fence.
