I wanted to think if I ever met someone capable of doing this to another person, I’d see it in his eyes. But then I heard Kirkman’s deep sigh of pleasure, and that rage filled me, and I started forward, gripping the knife.

A twig cracked behind me. I spun. So did Kirkman, stumbling, drunk, then falling and saying, “Who’s there?” in a shrill voice.

I scanned the dark forest but saw no one. An animal, I supposed.

I turned back to Kirkman, still on the ground. I slid the knife into its sheath, my hand still on it, under my jacket. Then I eased forward.

“Greg,” I said.

He blinked hard, struggling to focus. “T-Todd? You’re…the carpentry guy, right? No.” A sharp shake of his head. “Too much to drink. Too fucking much to drink.”

“It’s me, Greg. It’s Todd. I know what’s under that tree. I know about the other two. I know everything.”

His jaw worked. Then his eyes rounded. “You. It was you. How—how—” He pushed to his feet and looked around. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The dog. The huge dog.”

“You mean the hound?” I took a guess. “A big black hound with red eyes?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Every time I come in the forest, it’s here. I live in the fucking forest. How am I supposed to stay out of it? But I did.” A high-pitched giggle. “I figured out that the dog only follows me in here. So I stayed out.”

I looked at the surrounding woods. “Yeah…”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “It’s my day. My time to visit her. I thought maybe if I hung out with some guys, had a few drinks, I wouldn’t need to come here. But I did.”

“Why?” I asked, and I knew now the question was pointless. It was like asking the theoretical background to a quantum physics tenet when I’d barely gotten my high school diploma. No answer Kirkman could give would make any sense to me. It couldn’t.

“Why not?”

That was what he said, and I blinked, sure I’d misheard.

“I mean that,” I said, waving at the deadfall, not even able to look at the poor girl’s body. “Why?”

“And that was my answer. Why not?” Kirkman rose, his sweat drying in the cold night air. “You’ve thought of it. I know you have. Everyone does. We just don’t like to admit it. It isn’t right.” A derisive twist and lip curl to the last word.

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t even know the words to answer.