Pip!

Ahead of him, a blue backpack lay on the ground beneath an enormous white pine, and next to it an orange sleeping bag, lumped in the middle where a little boy lay curled up. Max wanted to scream for joy, but instead, he squatted down and scanned the woods around him. He had to stay focused. Reed was out there still.

Pip had pulled the sides of the bag up around his ears and was sobbing. When Max got within a few feet of the boy, he stepped on a twig and Pip went silent.

“Pip,” Max whispered.

The boy didn’t move.

“I’m a friend of your grandpa—I’m a friend of Poppy’s.”

The boy peeked out upon hearing the name, but didn’t speak.

Max looked around, cautious, like a man about to pet a bear cub knowing that the mama might be nearby. He put his gun down before peeling the collar of the sleeping bag back. There was Pip, his face dirty, his dark hair tossed, and his cheeks wet from tears. Max wanted to lift Pip up and hold him, tell him everything was okay now, but he couldn’t risk the boy screaming. He needed to be gentle and keep Pip calm. He needed Pip to trust that he was there to protect him. He needed to be fatherly.

“I’m here to take you home,” Max whispered.

Pip stayed still.

“We met at the grocery store just before Halloween, remember?” It dawned on Max that he looked very different on that first meeting. “I had long hair and a beard, but it was me.”

Pip looked confused.

“What’s a pirate’s favorite letter of the alphabet?”

Pip looked hard at Max and Max finally saw a spark of recognition. Then the boy said, “Arrrr.”

Max gave Pip a warm smile and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Pip rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled out of the bag, wearing his coat, boots, and gloves. Max lifted him with one hand, carrying his gun in the other, and walked up the slope with his finger resting on the trigger guard. The sun was fully down now, leaving no straggling rays, but a waxing moon floated above the horizon, giving Max just enough light to make his way.

The boy traveled well, holding on to Max’s neck and tucking himself in tightly to keep from catching on a branch. At the steepest part of the slope, Pip locked his feet around Max’s torso, freeing one of Max’s hands to grab shoots and branches as he pulled them up the hill. His knee still hurt, but he had the boy in his arms; he had Pip. He pictured the joy on Lyle’s face, in Meredith’s eyes, and felt so light that he could have danced a jig.

At the crest Max slowed to catch his breath. If he was right about Reed circling around the ridge, he would be there soon. Max had to hurry and get Pip across the rapids before Reed caught up to them.