I decided to watch them in the mirror, as if that made it less invasive. Rainer never moved, like a statue with just this one living appendage. Only when he suddenly reached for a fistful of her hair did she pull back. I don’t think he’d come. She wiped her lips with the towel, gave him a little pat on the ass, then nodded at the cock still bobbing loose, searchingly, unfinished. She’d already gotten up and exited the frame by the time he’d stuffed it in his jeans and cinched the belt.

They disappeared into another room. I followed the edge of the trees, sometimes squatting and waiting for a gust of smoke to dissipate, but no matter what angle I tried, I couldn’t find them.

Then I heard a door slam and had to hurry to the other side of the house, trying to be light so the forest floor didn’t crack beneath me. There I saw Dr. Kriss and Rainer heading for the outbuilding, carrying tent poles, duffel bags, and a filthy blue tarp. They set the gear on the ground by the Common Dreams truck.

I lay on my stomach again and looked through the binoculars. Dr. Kriss had climbed into the back of the truck and was lowering a stretcher to Rainer.

It was when she stepped down that I saw him point toward the woods, toward me. She followed his outstretched arm and her eyes touched mine through the lens. I couldn’t move. They took a few steps in my direction. Dr. Kriss squinted. I knew I should run, but I just flattened myself against the needles.

It was two fawns. They almost walked right over me, probing the dead ground with black noses, taking uncertain steps on their gangly legs. They entered the clearing with wide eyes, ears pressed back, and I saw Rainer shape his fingers into a gun and bend his trigger finger at them. Dr. Kriss shook her head and turned away.

There was a keypad for the outbuilding door, but I couldn’t see the code she entered. They wheeled the stretcher inside, emerging a few minutes later with the unmistakable shape of a body wrapped in a tarp. Dr. Kriss clambered into the truck and they hoisted the stretcher in, then Rainer helped her bring it back down, empty, the tarp flapping loose.

They were rolling the stretcher to the door, and he’d already turned to enter the code, when the tarp caught in the wheel and jammed it. Dr. Kriss crouched down and fiddled with the wheel, and Rainer, not releasing his grip on the stretcher, had to reach all the way out to touch the keypad, giving me a view of the code.

I still recall the rhythm of those numbers, 1488, 1488, beaten into my memory.

6.