Then Max ran back down the hill to where he had dropped his backpack. By the time he returned to Peter’s body, Lyle was long gone.

CHAPTER 64

Reed walked with new purpose. He would leave no track for Lyle to follow. He carried Pip whenever the ground turned soft, stepping on rocks and moss and sticks to avoid leaving a footprint. The boy didn’t help a lick, hanging limp in Reed’s arms every time Reed picked him up. Had he been this way with Peter? Reed got so fed up with the extra load that he almost regretted killing Spud—almost.

He stopped at the top of every hill to look back through his binoculars. There was no way Lyle could still be following him, but that didn’t stop Reed from seeing phantoms moving on the slopes behind him.

He and Pip had headed west, away from the Loon Falls, away from Spud, and hopefully away from Lyle and whoever Lyle had brought with him. If Spud had done his job, Lyle would head north to Loon Falls while Reed and Pip slipped quietly into Canada at the rapids. He and Pip would be home free; all he needed was a little luck—for once in his goddamned life.

As the afternoon sun grew weak, the temperature dropped below freezing. A slight breeze made the air even colder, yet Pip wasn’t crying or whining. He knew he would get no coddling from his father. Reed saw this as a hopeful sign. He believed that, deep down, Pip could be tenacious and hard, just like Reed had been after his father pushed him. Reed had learned to follow orders and tough it out, and in the two hours since they left Spud, Pip had been a good soldier.

Still, it seemed odd that Pip hadn’t spoken in those two hours. He walked like a zombie, never once looking up at his father. Reed tried to get Pip to talk a few times, but every comment landed on deaf ears, the boy’s sullen disrespect grating on Reed’s last nerve. Reed paused to give Pip a rest and to offer him an energy bar, but Pip didn’t want to eat. Reed ordered him to eat, so he finally did.

They returned to the march, cresting yet another hill thick with trees and scrub brush. In the distance Reed saw the river, dark and calm, and beyond it, Canada. Reed wanted to jump for joy, but he was far too tired. He still had to get across. He still had to worry about Lyle and the other man.

Reed had expected to hear the sound of a gunshot announcing the death of Peter Molinar, but it never came. That could mean any number of things, the best-case scenario being that his pursuers had stayed with Spud. But if he knew Lyle, that wasn’t likely. Reed had to assume the worst case—that Lyle would be showing up at the rapids that evening. Reed needed to be ready.