Rage pooled deep within his stomach and ate away at him like acid, an anger that this man had to die, a man who had shown him nothing but kindness since the day they met, a man who had risked his life and died to help a family he hardly knew. The thought of Hank’s wife and boy brought tears to his eyes, and they were hot and bitter on his cheeks. Then he thought of his own wife and daughter and turned to the old mine building with his heart in his throat.

The door swung open with a long, slow, creaking sound. What he saw as the dying light hit the far wall made him freeze in horror.

The wall was covered with bones.

Skulls in various stages of decay hung from wooden pegs. Raccoons, deer, dogs and a black bear. Other bones, stripped clean of flesh, had been nailed below the ragged heads.

Three of the skulls were human.

Jessie lay on the floor underneath them. He thought she was dead until he saw the slight puff of breath in the frigid air and ran to her. Thank God, oh, thank God. Then he saw the stuffed bear’s head in front of her.

Jesus, what did he do to you?

“Jessie?” he whispered, crouching beside her still body. “Please, baby, wake up.” He touched her with trembling fingers. She didn’t respond, and he kissed her eyes and nose and turned her gently, looking for blood. Please, be okay. Her limbs seemed intact, and she was breathing evenly and peacefully. He checked her pupils, and both looked normal.

He shuddered and wiped tears from his face. The fresh wound in his shoulder stung angrily, and he was reminded of the danger all around them. He could come back any time. What’s to stop him from finishing the job? Surely not some frightened man with a gun who couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn if his life depended on it.

He scooped up his daughter’s limp form in his arms and held her close, his shoulder singing out in pain, and went back outside. Hank’s bloodstained body on the center of the frozen riverbed was the only reminder of how close he himself had come to death. There was no one else in sight.

Where is Helen? What has he done with my wife?

“Jessie,” he whispered again, this time shaking her gently. “Please, I need you to tell me what happened to Mommy.”

It was like talking to a rag doll. Jessie’s eyes opened slightly, but they showed nothing but thin slits of white. He shook her harder, praying for some reaction. She did not stir.