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He glances down. “You okay with that?”

“I am.”

“What the hell took you so long?” someone says as we get inside, and it takes a moment for me to even remember who this redheaded kid is. Caleb. The boy from the SUV, who arrived with his girlfriend, Noemi.

The two of them sit at a table. The bartender nods from behind his bar, where he’s cleaning glassware. The woman is where we left her and doesn’t acknowledge our entrance. I peer at her, as if searching for a sign that she’s responsible for what’s happening in the forest. But what do I expect to see? A forked tail slipping from under her sweatshirt?

Noemi’s gaze sweeps over our dirt-streaked clothing with alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She starts to stand, but Henry waves her down. Then he pulls out a chair for me and lifts two fingers to the bartender.

“Whiskey?” the bartender says. “Tequila?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just a couple of shots.” To Noemi and Caleb, he says, “I’ll explain, in a minute.”

Caleb grumbles, but Henry only takes the shots and downs one as he brings the other back to me. I’ve never actually drunk straight liquor, and I’m not even sure what this is. Tastes like shit, and also tastes like heaven, scorching down my throat.

“There was another accident,” Henry says as he sits, chair turned to face the others.

“What?” Noemi leaps to her feet. “Where are the people?” Her eyes widen as she claps a hand to her mouth. “Oh God. Are they…?”

“How did someone hit our car?” Caleb says. “I had the hazards going.”

“So did I,” Henry says. “But they weren’t on when you hit me, and yours weren’t on when we got there.”

“What the hell? That isn’t possible.”

“What happened to the people in the car?” Noemi asks, her voice rising.

“There was an elderly man,” Henry says. “He was pinned. I’d dropped the crowbar—we’d been trying to flag him down, to stop him from hitting your SUV, and we had to dive off the road. We ran to find the crowbar and…” He glances at his empty glass, as if hoping something’s still in it. “When we got back, he was gone.”

“He left?” Noemi says. “I thought you said he was pinned.”

Henry takes a deep breath. “All right. This is … this is going to sound … Oh, hell. Whatever. His leg was still in the vehicle.”

“What?” Noemi’s voice rises, shrill.

Caleb leaps to his feet. “Okay, enough of this. Enough.” He takes Noemi by the arms. “Don’t listen to this. It’s bullshit. Never happened.”

“B-but—”

“Never happened, Mi. This is some kind of sick prank.”

“Well, that’s one theory,” the bartender drawls. “Care to explain?”

The young man spins on him. “You’re the one who needs to explain. All of you. Explain and apologize. No, actually, don’t bother. Noemi’s parents are both lawyers, and they’re going to sue all your asses for this.”

“For what exactly?” I say slowly. “What do you think is going on?”

“You’re filming for YouTube or whatever. Deserted back road on a stormy night. A couple of college kids hit a pileup. They run for help and find a creepy bar in the middle of nowhere.”

“Creepy?” The bartender straightens. “Excuse me?”

Caleb continues, “So we run in and tell the people what happened and they say, Huh, that’s weird, there should have been lights. We’ll go investigate. Two take off, and they’re gone for nearly an hour, come back looking like they were dragged along the road. They say another car hit ours and some old guy was, what, ripped out of his car by a serial killer? Leaving his leg behind? Is that your story?”

“We don’t have a story,” Henry says, his voice a warning rumble. “We are telling you what happened. We can’t explain it either.”

“Ah, unexplained phenomena. Good call. Those videos always do better.”