“Don’t lecture me, Mr. Caleb. I left my family for just a little while, tryin’ to scope out a place where we might set up a permanent camp. While I’m out there with these folks here, we hear shootin’ from far away. By the time we get back, everybody’s dead, and Brandon-Lee was missin’. That’s murder, Mr. Caleb Emerson. That makes you a murderer. That’s what your people was callin’ Brandon-Lee, ain’t it?”

“Yes, sir. But he was found not guilty.”

“Because he didn’t kill nobody,” Grubbs said. “I don’t think you can say the same thing, can you?”

“Please don’t kill me,” Caleb said through a sob.

Grubbs pushed him back into the thorns. “You disgust me,” he said. “How old are you, anyway?”

Nobody stopped Caleb as he struggled to sit back up. No one helped him, either. “I’m sixteen, sir.”

“And look at you bawlin’ like a baby. Have some self-respect, Mr. Caleb.”

“I–I don’t know what you want me to do,” Caleb stammered.

“Get a hold of yourself and say whatever you think needs to be said.”

“I’ve been trying. But you keep hitting me.”

Grubbs looked wired for violence. His eyes were red and wet, and his jaw muscles were working hard. He looked like it took everything he had not to lash out again. Grubbs looked up at the others who were gathered around, then seemed to settle himself. He clapped his hands together once and stood.

“Okay,” Grubbs said. “All right. Fair is fair. Help Mr. Caleb stand up.”

Hands were jammed under Caleb’s armpits, and an instant later, he was on his feet and a little dizzy. He started to fall and someone caught him. “Here you go, Caleb Emerson. You stand accused of murder. You’ve already confessed to being in on the fight. I already know that Brandon-Lee saw you shoot people and brag about it. He even told me that you weren’t the one who shot his mama. He don’t know who did that.”

Balance continued to be a problem with his hands bound behind him, but Caleb made it work. He spun around slowly before speaking, trying to collect his thoughts as he took in the faces. He counted four women and five men, including Brandon-Lee and Grubbs. Their faces showed zero mercy. They looked a lot like the faces in Maggie’s during Brandon-Lee’s trial. They were going to hurt him—that was for sure. Maybe they were going to kill him.

But there was no way they were going to let him go. Not after what had happened. Caleb thought of only one chance he might have. Luke. There was no sign of him. Maybe it was possible that the Grubbs gang didn’t even know he’d been here. And maybe it was possible that Luke grew a set of balls big enough to run for help.