This time the look they exchanged was full of alarmed understanding. The grass was incredibly tall (for such an expanse of grass to be more than six feet high this early in the season was an anomaly that wouldn’t occur to them until later). Some little kid had wandered into it, probably while exploring, almost certainly from one of the houses down the road. He had become disoriented and wandered in even deeper. He sounded about eight, which would make him far too short to leap up and find his bearings that way.

“We should haul him out,” Cal said.

“Pull in to the church parking lot. Let’s get off the side of the road.”

He left her on the margin of the highway and turned into the dirt lot of the Redeemer. A scattering of dust-filmed cars was parked here, windshields beetle bright in the glare of the sun. That all but one of these cars appeared to have been there for days—even weeks—was another anomaly that would not strike them then. But it would later.

While he took care of the car, Becky crossed to the other shoulder. She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “Kid! Hey, kid! Can you hear me?”

After a moment he called back, “Yes! Help me! I’ve been in here for DAYS!”

Becky, who remembered how little kids judged time, guessed that might mean twenty minutes or so. She looked for a path of broken or trampled grass where the kid had gone in (probably making up some video game or stupid jungle movie in his head as he did), and couldn’t see one. But that was all right; she pegged the voice as coming from her left, at about ten o’clock. Not too far in either. Which made sense; if he’d gotten in very far, they wouldn’t have heard him, even with the radio off and the windows open.

She was about to descend the embankment, to the edge of the grass, when there came a second voice, a woman’s—hoarse and confused. She had the groggy rasp of someone who has just come awake and needs a drink of water. Badly.

“Don’t!” shouted the woman. “Don’t! Please! Stay away! Tobin, stop calling! Stop calling, honey! He’ll hear you!”

“Hello?” Becky yelled. “What’s going on?”

Behind her she heard a door slam. Cal, on his way across the street.

“We’re lost!” the boy shouted. “Please! Please, my mom is hurt, please! Please help!”

“No!” the woman said. “No, Tobin, no!”

Becky looked around to see what was taking Cal so long.