KnockOut

needed a brush. “Ethan wants to go alone, but you and I both know that’s too dangerous. One look and he’d be under. I want to be at his back, to keep him safe.”
    “Your mother is staying here with you, Autumn.”
    Autumn looked up at Ethan, again with too much awareness in her eyes. She said slowly, “Mama’s right, Ethan. I’ll be okay here. You take Mama and sneak up on them. I won’t be afraid, I promise.”
    “It would be too dangerous for her,” he said. “Joanna, you have to stay here and protect Autumn.”
    Autumn gave him a look that clearly said, What a stupid thing to come out of your mouth, and here you are, an adult.
    Ethan said, “I don’t like it.”
    “You can’t keep me from following you, so we might as well go together,” Joanna said, voice honey-smooth because she knew she’d won. How could she possibly consider taking a risk of dying as winning? He watched her hug Autumn hard against her, heard her say against her hair, “You stay here and wait for us, all right? We’ll be back, I promise you.”
    “Be careful,” Autumn said, and looked toward where her sneakers were lined up next to her silver sleeping bag.
    Once outside the cave, Ethan and Joanna made sure the bushs covered the entrance without any trace they’d been there. Ethan said, “Even if Blessed accidentally comes along, even if he tracks her near here, he won’t know where she is, precisely, because he can’t see the cave entrance in the dark.”
    Joanna prayed that was true. She knew he’d said that to convince both of them. She said, “It’s too dark for you to track them. How are we going to find them?”
    He said, “Tell me how experienced you are in the woods, Joanna At night.”
    “At night it’s pretty much been limited to leaving my tent to go to the bathroom. But I’m very good. I don’t clomp around and trip over plants and bushes. I’m a shadow, a ghost.”
    He grinned.
    “Seriously, I can keep up with you, Ethan. Where are we headed?”
    “I told you I know this wilderness. I know they’re after her, but even if they can somehow track her to this area, I don’t think they’ll even try to come for her tonight. It’s too dark, they don’t know the terrain, and any light they used would give them away. If all that’s true, and they’re not all that far away, I have a good idea where they would have stopped for the night.” Without another word, Ethan started toward a cliff they’d skirted to reach the cave entrance.
    “Be careful, Joanna. Now that it’s dark, it’s far more dangerous going down than coming up. From now on, don’t talk.” He picked up a dry branch as they made their way down the narrow winding path. When Ethan came upon a loose mess of rocks, he poked the branch at it, alerting Joanna. Neither of them stumbled. Ethan had excellent night vision, and Joanna kept close, copying his steps.
    At the bottom of the cliff was a narrow creek that flowed into the Sweet Onion River, nearly dry now in the deep of summer. He decided they’d cross it right there, to get out of the clearing and away from the faint reflection of the water.
    They made their way easily over smooth stones in the creek bed, stones laid down by someone who’d traveled the wilderness before Ethan was born. The creek wasn’t more than three feet wide at this point. When they reached the other side, Ethan turned and held out his hand to help her up a steep incline on the opposite side. She smiled at him and shook her head. He whispered, “It’s a little rough here, be careful.”
    Joanna slipped once after all. His hand was there to grip her wrist and pull her up. He nodded to her when they reached the top.
    He took them through a patch of underbrush so thick she didn’t see how they’d get through, but Ethan managed to push forward steadily, not making much noise at all. He stopped and pulled her very close, whispered against her ear, “The land flattens out up ahead and opens up for a while. We’ll walk where the trees are thick, so watch for branches.”
    Ethan knew the terrain so well he recognized individual trees as they moved in the intense darkness. It brightened only a bit when at last the trees thinned out and the few stars overhead came into sight He leaned close again. “There aren’t any trails within a quarter mile of us, then there’s a nine-mile stretch of the Appalachian Trail through the wilderness. It’s well marked. I’ll wager Blessed and Grace are close to it. If