When we left Callie’s, I’d followed Zion to the old mill. There were no firefighters in sight — I guess the strait really was closed. Williams had transferred some stuff from the back of the van into the Porsche. Then he’d set the van on fire. After that we’d driven over to Wausau and headed south on 39. About fifteen minutes ago, we’d gotten off the highway and onto the small local roads. We’d gone as far west as they could take us. The rest of the way would have to be on foot.

For the first time I could remember, I wished it were still winter — wetlands were a lot easier when everything was frozen.

Zion and Williams opened the Porsche’s trunk and started to suit up. Zion donned a chainmail vest. That was an eye-opener. Did she do her shopping at Renaissance fairs, or something?

Both armed themselves with knives and handguns. I would’ve guessed Williams would go for some big-dick gun like a Desert Eagle, but he had a pretty standard looking 9mm. Then he slid a scabbard onto his back and picked up a riot shotgun. Maybe that’s where he kept his big stopping power.

“Graham,” he said, as he started feeding cartridges into the shotgun. “No weapons.”

Graham shrugged, as though the idea were beneath contempt. “I don’t carry weapons. Never needed them.”

Williams shot him a look that said something like, A real man would carry anyway. Or maybe, Bet you never needed your cock either.

There certainly was no love lost between those two.

“Mandatory pause for male posturing: check,” I murmured. Then I asked aloud, “Is Kara going to be all right if we leave her here?”

Zion shot me an amused look. Guess my murmur was louder than I realized. “Yeah. Williams will leave her shielded.”

She stepped into the brush. Williams gestured for me to follow her. He came next, with Graham bringing up the rear.

First came a roadside ditch with almost a foot of icy-cold standing water. It came in over the tops of my boots. Then came a field of impenetrable waist-high bushes that seemed to have talons instead of twigs. Then a series of marshy oxbows. It sucked. I couldn’t imagine why they hadn’t left me in the car with Kara. I had no weapons and no abilities, and I wasn’t particularly outdoorsy.

At least all the crashing around and swearing I did weren’t audible — we passed several large flocks of ducks that ignored us completely. But whatever the others were doing to hide our presence, I couldn’t sense it. What had happened at the mill hadn’t fixed me.

Eventually Zion stopped.

“In there,” she said, pointing to a small stand of aspens. The trunks were slender and densely packed. I had no idea how we were going to get through them. Or how Justine had.