I looked at the backpack, full of his clothes and food and Girl’s stuffed squirrel with the deformed face, but the man poked the air with the knife and grinned again.

“It’s okay, okay,” Carl whispered. “Just involute, Magic Boy. Make yourself invisible like me and Girl. They don’t see us. Put extra space between your electrons. They can’t see our atoms. We are spinning and spinning.”

“Seven!”

“Okay,” I whispered. My mouth was like paste. I followed Carl and Girl toward the end of the bridge. Behind us, the woods were black. No moonlight found its way through the dense leaves. The creek gurgled and bubbled as though everything was fine.

“Eight thousand nine hundred and ten-fucking-zero!” He was laughing. Then he howled. And yipped. I heard tin cans crash together. Glass smashing.

“Keep your feet in the water,” Carl said. “Don’t leave a smell.”

Moving carefully on the silt and pebbles and slimy grass, the three of us stayed near the edge of the creek. Stepping back and back and back. Somewhere off in the distance I heard real dogs barking. A chorus of them. This time, though, Girl didn’t react at all.

—

After a long time, Carl stopped. My whole body flumped right into his, and I jumped. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you.”

Movement of fabric, and Carl flicked on his flashlight. “Not invisible anymore. Urh. If you stay like that too long, you can’t come out again.”

Cool water rushed over my ankles. The creek had gotten deeper. I stepped onto the bank, sat down on a large rock.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Away,” he said.

“Away where?”

“Urh. Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Sorry,” I said again.

I leaned down and rubbed my feet. Even though they’d been in the water, they felt hot and swollen. The bottoms were tough, but not tough enough for walking so long on rocks and twigs.

Carl came out of the water and stood beside me. Girl was right next to him and shook, droplets pecking my face.

“Did you know them, Magic Boy?”

“What?”

“Did you know those Workers.”

“Know them? How would I know them?”

“Did you, did you, urh, did you send out a signal?”

“What? I was almost asleep. You saw me.”

“Sure I did, but I can’t see what you emit.”

Emit? I swallowed. What was he talking about? “I swear, Carl. I never sent out anything. I don’t even know how. I never saw them before. And I don’t want to see them ever again.”

“Urh,” he said. “I told you so.”

“Told me what?”

“Not you,” he said. He twitched his fingers, and I knew he’d pulled out more hairs. “I was figuring things out with Stan.”