Narrator

Same collapsed roof.

The tarp.

The stacked wood.

And now, clearly visible, a second structure I hadn't noticed the day before.

An old shed tucked behind the cabin.

Half hidden by brush, door reinforced with newer boards.

In front of the shed stood Eb, wiping his hands on his pants.

Glenn was near the fire ring, crouched, feeding small sticks.

The hooded older man, who I realized was older than I thought, face creased like dry leather, sat on a stump, rope in his hands, tying something.

And then I saw Luke.

He was sitting on the ground near the shed, hands bound in front of him, ankles bound, back against a stump.

His face was swollen on one side, streaked with mud.

One eye half shut, but he was upright, breathing, alive.

A sound tried to leave my throat.

Tessa clamped her hand over my mouth.

My eyes burned.

My whole body wanted to run down there, to throw myself at them, to tear rope with my teeth.

Tessa leaned close, her lips at my ear.

"'You go down there, you die,' she whispered.

"'We get him when they move.'