Thunder continued to rumble overhead, and lightning flashed, lighting up the darkening skies. Soaked, cold and shaking with terror, the boys ran into the forest. Not far in, Conor grabbed Dominic and slowed to a stop, forcing him to stop with him.
“Listen,” he said hastily, “that guy knows where Max is. He knows, Dom. I have to go back.”
“No,” Dom countered, shaking his head fiercely. “You can’t go back, Conor. He’s bad!”
“Dom, you have to find Jem and go for help –”
“Something’ll happen to you, Conor. I can’t do that.”
Frustrated, Conor stepped closer to Dom and seethed, “You’re not listening, Dom. That guy knows where Max is. I need to follow him. I can find him. I need to find him!” His voice broke with emotion.
Max was out there, somewhere, scared and frightened.
Dominic was crying now. “What if something happens to you?”
“Nothing will happen to me, I promise.”
“You don’t know that –”
“He’s out there, Dom!” Conor wept. “He needs me. I know he does. Max needs me! He’s counting on me!”
It was all Max ever wanted: to count on someone to be there when he needed them. Conor couldn’t let him down.
“Stop wasting time,” Conor said, pushing Dom back now. “Go find Jem. Then get help.”
Saturated in rain, Dominic stared pleadingly at Conor, hoping he’d change his mind, but Conor stood unwavering.
“It’s down to you and Jem,” Conor said with finality. “You both have to go back and get help. We’re counting on you. But I have to be here. I have to.”
He had to.
He did.
He felt it in his bones.
Bracing himself, Dom finally stiffened a nod and turned around, running further into the bush in the direction Jem had been.
Conor wasted no time returning to the trail along the cliff. He spotted the man straightaway and kept himself hidden behind the trees. His breaths were coming out in clouds now as the temperature continued to drop.
The man walked the trail, hands still in his pockets, and Conor followed, thankful for the rain because it drowned out the twigs snapping beneath his drenched shoes.
Not far along the trail, the man made an abrupt turn and waded into the bush, feet from where Conor hid. Heart in his throat, Conor ducked down into a bush, pressing his body against the tree, distinctly aware the man was an arm’s length away. His footsteps halted, too close for comfort. Aware the man was on the other side of the tree he was hiding behind, Conor held the breath in his lungs, his entire body on pins and needles.
Then the man moved. He strode past him, moving in a linear direction. Conor skated around the tree, ducking his head out quickly to have a look at him. He waited for thunder to move. When it rumbled in the sky, he stepped away from the tree and hid behind another one, moving closer behind the man.
It was like that for a while. With careful manoeuvring, Conor followed the man traipsing ahead of him, going through dense bush like he knew where he was going. He knew the lay of the land. In fact, as they moved, Conor noticed how easy it was to follow because there was sort of a trail made here, the way an animal made tracks routinely cutting through the same path.
Conor had moments of doubt whether he should follow as he trailed him carefully. He felt goose bumps running along his body. His instincts were constantly screaming for him to halt and turn back, to seek safety and return to what he knew.
But he couldn’t do that.
This man knew Max was little. He’d called Jem mouthy, too. He’d been watching them. How else did he know those things? Plus, it was evident in the way he stared at Conor, eyes smiling like he knew. God, he knew.
The thunder rumbled overhead again, and Conor continued, following the path, then hiding behind a tree. This time the thunder took longer to come. He ducked his head out, trying to make out the green jacket that was now blending a little too much in the bush as the man moved further ahead.
Resting his head against the tree, Conor took a few deep breaths, realizing he had to move. He could not wait for the thunder every time. The rain was loud, he consoled himself. It was pounding on the trees, the wind was rustling the leaves and branches. There was a lot of noise as it was. The man wouldn’t hear him.